


the moon is my lover and the streets are my friends

by ImagineYourself



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Gangs, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Bottom Dean, Conveniently placed fire escapes, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Family Dynamics, Feels like crazy, First Time, Fluff, It's a wild ride, Kissing, M/M, Mild Underage?, Minor Character Death, Nicknames, POV Castiel, Some Humor, Touch-Starved, Violence, Vulnerable Cas, gang fights, touch is important
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-08 20:39:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3222689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImagineYourself/pseuds/ImagineYourself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel grew up with the cold streets of Cipher, an old city rampant with gangs and violence, rarely a warm bed and meal for him to return to. Sure, there were good parts of the city, but it was Castiel's choice to find a home with the Wings, a little gang that mostly kept to themselves. All he ever knew was the sharp blow of a hand and cruel words from the mouths of people around him. That all changed when the new kid on the block turned out to be more than crude jokes and pretty face, carving out a space in Castiel's life as easy as a knife.<br/>- - -<br/><em>“He showed Cas that not every touch had to be slap or a punch, but could be tender and loving and make him ache in way that bruises never could.”</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated for a long while on whether to post this or not, but I think it's time. This is my current work in progress and while I have the entire fic planned and partially written, it needs me to find the time to actually sit down and write for a while for it to come to fruition. But it will happen, of that I have no doubt. This story took me weeks to flesh out and it is my baby and I'm very proud of it and how it's turning out. So here, enjoy the first part!
> 
> WARNINGS!  
> This fic contains parental abuse, gang violence, some underage (Dean is 17 and Cas is 18 but yeah...?), and a lot of feels and emotions. Please keep that in mind while reading!

"Put your faith elsewhere, kids," he said slowly, the gruffness in his voice loud where his words were soft. "All we got here is broken bottles and broken bones. The streets won't be your mom or your pop, and the nights sure as hell won't keep you warm like that sweet girl you're gonna miss out on marrying if you come this way."

"I lived without a mom for as long as I can remember. And my father isn't one to speak of. I don't need a sweet girl when I've got a jacket, a cigarette, and a good view of the moon," one of the boys piped up. He stood to the side of the little gathering, hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his leather jacket and his heavy boots holding him steady in the puddle he was standing in, left by rain earlier that day. Dark, damp hair fell over his eyes, keeping the rest of the group from seeing his whole face.

The older man who had spoken first smirked as he looked at the boy. "Then you'll do just fine here." He looked around at the other few figures who weren't too much more than dark shadows in the dimness of the night, streetlights far behind them. "Any of you care to join or am I taking just one back with me tonight?"

The others shuffled around, glancing at each other then at the dark-haired one. After a hesitant moment, they each stepped back and left without another word.

"Shame," the elder man muttered, watching them with shaded eyes as they went, back towards the light of the city. "Looks like it's you and me now. Name's Gadreel around here." He stuck out his hand but the boy didn't take it.

He didn't even look up as he replied, "Call me Castiel."

Gadreel smiled, a genuine and intrigued smile. "Welcome to the Wings."

Castiel woke up early in the mornings. He usually didn't get home until well past two a.m., but his body had gotten used to four hours of sleep a night, five if he was lucky. He would wake early, escape before his father woke up, go to school, then he would spend his evenings and nights with the rest of the Wings, helping out around the dank little bar—Afterlife—that Gadreel owned. He spent a lot of time outside at night, sitting on the roof of the bar and looking out at the sprawling city with a burning cigarette in his hand, usually half gone by the time he remembered he ought to be filling his lungs with the smoke instead of the rooftop.

It was a quiet life that he lived. Peaceful even. Until trouble started and his affiliations dragged him into the fray. He'd gotten more than his fair share of bloody noses and broken ribs, but he'd returned the favor more than enough, too. It came with the territory though, literally and figuratively. Castiel sometimes asked himself why he made the choices he did. Why he joined the Wings in the first place. Every time he thought about it, he just glanced at the tattoo of three falling feathers on the inside of his left wrist, and he remembered.

He'd been tired of being alone.

Sure most nights he still spent on his own on the rooftop, but now he had Gabriel who would ask him every night if he wanted to hang out, though Castiel always said no, he had a date with the moon after all. Then there was Anna who always bumped him on the shoulder and gave him a half-smile whenever they walked together to English in the mornings and when they met up after school to go to Afterlife. There was Gadreel who, despite his flaws and rare outbursts, was like a parent to most of the younger Wings, asking how their days went and always happy to lend the shabby kitchen in the back if someone didn't have a meal waiting at home, which ended up being most of the time.

Castiel wasn't very close with many of the other members of the gang. He'd met them all a few times at meetings, but they didn't hang around too much. Many of them were drifters, or loners like Castiel, preferring to be alone even when they finally belonged somewhere. Balthazar was one of the few who stayed around, handling Afterlife when Gadreel was doing other business. They rarely worked together since very few visited but the Wings themselves and the occasional outsider looking for a quick watering hole. They liked it that way, tucked in a little corner of the busy streets of Cipher.

Uriel and Raphael were in and out, always carrying out "business" for the leader of the Wings. Michael himself, the head, was rarely in, only showing his face when meetings called for him, or he called them. His brother Lucifer was mostly in charge in day to day life for the Wings. If Castiel was honest, which he usually was, he liked Lucifer far more than Michael. Their leader was distant and often cold where Lucifer was warm and inviting, though he was definitely not the kind of person you wanted to fuck with. Castiel had learned that the hard way when a few guys from another gang tried to make a deal with him in Afterlife and Lucifer nearly smashed them into a pulp, breaking more than a few bones and leaving them bleeding in an alley back in their own territory.

Still, even with the violence that came with being in a gang, Castiel finally felt like he had a place to go, people to take care of him, and a real home.

So, he continually asked himself, why did he still feel empty when he sat on the rooftop? With a smoking cigarette in one hand, the other braced on the cold, damp concrete, his legs hanging over the edge of the building and into the dark alley below... Something was missing.

He was walking through the halls of his school when a shoulder bumped his, a lot more forcefully than was really necessary, and Castiel felt a sharp remark on the tip of his tongue. Then, a red mop of hair came into the corner of his view and he visibly relaxed, his words fading away to somewhere in the back of his throat for later, when he really needed them.

“Hey, Castiel,” Anna greeted him, her voice lilting as she fell into step.

Castiel replied with the corner of his mouth lifting, the corner she couldn't see. He liked it like that, not letting people see how he was feeling. He rarely spoke, only talking when words seemed important or necessary. Anna saw this, though she generally made up for his lack of words with her own. She was doing it right then, too, even as Castiel was deep in thought.

“Gabriel invited us over for dinner sometime. Well, he's done it before. Says the invitation is always open. His mom usually makes too much food and he says she'd love to have the house full again. I always like when his mom talks about the family, makes me feel like mine's not so bad, you know?”

Tuning her out, as he usually did, Castiel continued walking, his eyes pointed ahead but unfocused. He was so out of it that he didn't even realize he'd bumped into another person until Anna grabbed his arm and pulled him back, hissing out a warning to the kid who was now on the floor, his papers everywhere.

“I said I was sorry, jeez! Maybe your friend should look where he's going next time,” the boy said, glancing up at Castiel with a tired expression and incredibly bright green eyes.

Without replying, Castiel turned away, trusting that he would be able to clean up his mess. Anna brushed their shoulders together as she got in line with him again. “What an ass,” she muttered. “He must be new here, doesn't know who we are.”

“Anna, not many people know who we are. They just stay away because we intimidate them,” Castiel told her mildly.

She smirked. “I know that. But it's not my fault! You're the scary silent one.” Castiel quirked an eyebrow at her and rolled his eyes when she looked away, her mouth still firmly curved upwards.

Balthazar was behind the counter when Castiel arrived at Afterlife that evening. He slid into a seat at the bar, thanking the older man with a nod when he placed a soda in front of Castiel. Gabriel, who had been lurking around the pool table in the back corner, suddenly appeared at his elbow, taking the stool next to him. The older boy, fresh from high school, had his ever-present grin stuck on his face and he leaned in close as Cas took a sip of his drink.

“Hey, Cassie. How was your day?” Gabe asked

“How many times have I told you not to call me that?” Castiel replied without even looking at him. Instead, he focused on the many bottles that littered the walls behind the counter where Balthazar was cleaning glasses and stacking them. It was astounding how often he did that considering that rarely anyone was ever in the little bar except for the Wings themselves unless it was a weekend.

Gabe sighed dramatically. “Probably a few hundred. But come onnnn, it's a great nickname!”

“I don't like nicknames.”

“Lighten up _Castiel_.”

“Hey, Gabey, knock it off. He hasn't let anyone give him a nickname in the two years he's been here, you think you're gonna change that in the next five minutes? No? Then shut it,” Balthazar told him. His accent more prominent than usual, which was probably the only reason Gabe actually listened and slunk away to greet Anna, who had just walked in the door. “Jesus, ever since Luce let him in he's been trying to change everything around here. Just because he's the bosses' cousin...” He was mumbling to himself more than Castiel, but the boy felt himself smile anyway, hiding it in his glass. “I mean I like _my_ nickname, but you don't have to like yours!” Balthy—as Gabriel had dubbed him—gestured at Castiel with the towel he was holding.

“What's going on?” Anna asked as she took the seat Gabe recently vacated. Castiel just nodded his head in the direction of the other boy and Anna smiled knowingly. “So, what's on the menu?” She directed the question at Balthazar, who barely glanced up before going back to his work.

“Whatever you want to make, sweetheart, the kitchen is yours.”

“Gee, thanks.” Anna got off her seat and grabbed a hold of Castiel's arm to drag him back with her. “Come on, let's go find something. Gabe? You hungry?”

“Food? Hell yeah!” Gabriel followed them behind the bar and into the kitchen, a lollipop in his mouth that definitely hadn't been there seconds before. Castiel would never understand him.

The nights were getting colder and Castiel could feel October on it's way as he sat on the roof of Afterlife, the half-moon telling him it was probably around eleven. If he lay in the middle of the area and held his hands around his eyes, Castiel could block out most of the city light and look up to see a few stars peeking out from deep in space. He heard sirens in the distance and wondered briefly where they were going.

“Hey!”

The shout would have startled Castiel had he not been accustomed to loud noises and learned to not spook easily. There were often strange shouts in the night, and he ignored it like he ignored them all, content to keep on watching the sky.

“Hey, dude!”

The voice felt vaguely familiar and Castiel sat up to glance around quickly. There were some clanks and crashing sounds from his left and he turned to see a figure clambering down the fire escape of the apartment building right next to the bar. He watched as whoever was got to the same level as the roof and climbed over the railing in order to step across the two feet that separated his building from Castiel's. Really he was fortunate that the alley between the structures was so narrow, otherwise he wouldn't have made it. As it was, he safely crossed and began walking towards Castiel, who got to his feet with apprehension.

“Hey, you're that guy from school today, right?”

As he got closer, the moonlight revealed to Castiel's eyes that it was the guy he'd bumped into that morning, those same green eyes staring him down, but with curiosity rather than annoyance like before. Castiel didn't know what to say so he stayed silent, fitting his hands in the pockets of his jacket and fingering the lighter that he kept in the left one.

The guy stopped a few feet away and looked Castiel over once before sticking out his hand. “I'm Dean.” Castiel didn't take his hand. Slowly, he lowered it and continued on as if it hadn't even happened. “Look, man, I just wanted to say sorry about this morning. I see you out here sometimes and I thought I recognized you.” He laughed a little to himself, running a hand through his short hair. “I'm glad I wasn't wrong.”

Castiel cocked his head slightly and looked at him with narrowed eyes. What the hell was this guy—Dean—doing? Did he not know about the bar? Was he new in town or just stupid? Looking past the boy, Castiel tried to figure out where he'd come from and realized he must have crawled through the window of his apartment and onto the escape. What a weirdo.

“Uhh.” Dean's halt in speech drew Castiel's attention back to him. “You're not deaf are you? Or mute? I feel kinda like I'm talking to a wall here. Or a cat. You look kind of kitten-ish.”

With a flat tone, Castiel replied, “No. I am not deaf, nor mute. Neither am I a cat.”

Dean raised his brows and smiled widely. “Woah, dude, just a joke.” He looked around the rooftop. “So, I've noticed you come here often...” he paused, as if waiting for Castiel to laugh. He didn't. “Anyway, I just moved in a few weeks ago, my dad wanted to find a job in the city.”

Well, that answers one question, Castiel thought to himself. He had gauged this strange guy to not be a threat, and so he decided to sit down again, this time a little closer to the edge of the bar, so that his feet stuck out over the end and he could look down into the street below. He didn't look up when Dean sat beside him.

“What's your name?” the boy asked him after an awkwardly silent few seconds of getting comfortable.

“Castiel.”

“Cool. So what are you doing out here? You live in the apartments too?”

Castiel pursed his lips and turned towards the other boy. “You shouldn't hang around here.”

“You're one to talk.” Dean grinned playfully but Castiel just remained stoic.

“It's not safe.”

“'Cause we're on a rooftop? Yeah, I noticed.”

Castiel shook his head and said, “No. You should go home. It's late and there's school in the morning.”

The look Dean gave him was incredulous. “Really? Dude, I'm seventeen, as long as I get up in the morning who cares when I go to bed.”

Castiel was silent for a long minute or two before he made his decision. Standing, he pulled a cigarette from his jean pocket and his lighter, lighting it up and taking a deep drag. “Don't come here again,” he said, walking back towards the back of the bar, where a ladder would allow him back into the alleys and away. He didn't really want to leave so early, but he didn't have much of a choice with this guy hanging around. He figured he'd just go inside and see if Gadreel needed any help.

“Hey, wait!” Dean called from behind him. Castiel ignored him, took in the last rays of moonlight for the moment, then headed into the shadows and through the back door of Afterlife.

Three days later Castiel was sitting in his customary seat at the bar, soda in front of him and Anna and Gabriel arguing about something across the room. The bell on the front door jangled and Castiel glanced over to see Luce entering, walking tall in a leather jacket just like the one Castiel had. It wasn't surprising considering the older man had given it to him long ago one cold night for the walk home and let Castiel keep it.

“Hello, hello, how is everyone?” Luce greeted the gathered members, which included just Gadreel besides Anna, Gabe, and Castiel himself. He got a few mumbled responses and went up behind Castiel to grab hold of his shoulders. “How was your day, Castiel?”

The boy tilted his head towards him and replied, “Good,” before looking back at the drink in front of him. Luce gave his shoulders a squeeze and smiled, seemingly pleased, and continued on towards the back room.

That was the nice thing about Luce, he was easy to please and understood Castiel's silence, always showing a little bit of happiness when Castiel did say something. When the boy had first joined the gang, it was Luce who had taken the most immediate liking to him and had respected his quiet watchfulness. Of the brothers who led the gang, Luce was also the one around most often, and he and Castiel had had many a time to sit with each other considering how much of his time Castiel spent in the bar. Sometimes Castiel even thought to himself, though he would never say it out loud, that he might even have been better friends with him than with Anna.

Speaking of the redhead, Anna sidled up at that moment, Gabriel just behind her. “Hey, Castiel, how do you feel about dinner at Gabe's tonight? His mom's making lasagna.”

Castiel turned his eyes to look at her and the hopeful grin on Gabe's face. He shook his head slowly. “No thanks. Not tonight.”

“Aww, come on! You never come to dinner! I can't even entice you with lasagna?” Gabe pleaded, putting on his best puppy dog eyes.

“He's got a date with the moon tonight, isn't that right?” Luce said as he breezed back into the room, a manila folder in one hand.

“He sits out there in the cold and looks at the moon every night. Don't you think you could try to convince him, cuz?” Gabe asked, turning his face towards his cousin.

Luce just sent a smile towards Castiel and leaned against the counter. “Let the man do what he wants to do. Maybe someday he'll change his mind and come to dinner, but don't pressure him.”

Castiel blinked gratefully at the older man and looked back at Anna. “Sorry.”

“That's okay. Some other time. See you tomorrow, then,” she told him with a smile.

Once the duo had left, Luce sat beside Castiel and asked Gadreel for a beer. “You know,” he started, turning a bit towards the boy, “I'm the one named Lucifer, but Gabe can be a real little devil sometimes.”

Castiel had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling, but he couldn't stop the twitch of his mouth or huff of a laugh that left through his nose. Luce clapped him on the back and grinned before taking his beer and his folder and heading out.

Castiel thought he might have been shivering, but he lit a cigarette anyway, holding it to his lips and pulling the smoke into his lungs, letting it out slowly. Half of it burned out by the time he remembered to take another drag and he thought it might have been a good thing. It was the coldest night of the week so far, but it was only a Tuesday. Castiel was bundled up with his leather jacket and had his knees pulled up to his chin, looking out over the city with half-lidded eyes.

It was only because he recognized the distinct clanging noise to the side that Castiel looked over and saw Dean once again clambering over to Afterlife. Castiel felt the urge to roll his eyes, but he looked away and back at the city instead, debating if he should light another cigarette or keep warm. He didn't even look up as Dean got comfy beside him.

“Hey, Castiel.”

“Hello, Dean.”

“You know it's like one in the morning right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, man.”

They were both quiet for a long moment before Castiel managed to open his mouth again. “I thought I told you not to come back.”

“Guess I don't listen very well.” At that, Castiel did look over, and he was unsurprised to see a smile playing on Dean's lips. “You're out here every night though.” Castiel quirked his head, prompting Dean to continue. “I just wanna know why.”

Looking away, Castiel didn't answer right away. Instead, he looked out over the lights and the buildings before him, eyes tracing the streets of Cipher, streets he knew well from the years he'd spent wandering them each day and finding new ways around. “I wait until I can go home,” he finally said.

Dean seemed to think about that for a moment. “Why do you have to wait?”

“So it's safe.”

“I don't understand.”

“You don't have to.” Castiel didn't really want to say more, either. He was feeling oddly okay with talking to Dean, something that was strange as he normally had to try hard to get even a word or two out, especially with a stranger. He wasn't sure if he liked it or not.

“Huh, okay then,” was all Dean replied.

They say in relative silence for another few minutes before Castiel got to his feet. “I mean it this time. Don't come back.”

“Why?” Dean asked, standing, too.

“You don't want to get mixed up in this.”

“In what?”

Without giving him an answer, Castiel turned and started walking away, escaping the conversation and brilliant eyes in just a moment. His breath left his lungs a little bit easier with every step away he took. And he took many. It was a couple of miles from the bar to his house and Castiel steeled himself for the long walk, deciding to take a little bit of a back way to spend some extra time in the night air.

He wasn't happy with Dean. The boy kept cutting his nighttime date short and messing up Castiel's schedule of equal time inside and on the roof each day. It was already getting colder, which would put a dent into his outside time when winter finally hit, but now this? Castiel sighed to himself as he walked, mind turning over the events of the past few times he'd encountered Dean, and how strange the boy was. He didn't seem to get it, or maybe he was just terrible at listening to warnings.

With still no idea what to do about Dean if he did end up coming back, Castiel made it home and slipped quietly through the backdoor. He was met with the kitchen light on and his father standing with the paper in one hand and a cup of what was probably tea in the other. Castiel froze in place, watching carefully as the man noticed him and set his mug down.

“You're home.” Zachariah's voice was quiet, but loud enough to almost make Castiel wince. “Where have you been?” he sneered, placing the paper on the counter beside his tea. His hands rested on the counter and Castiel glanced at them quickly before looking back at his father's face. When he didn't answer, the older man took a step towards him.

“I said, where have you been?” he reiterated slowly.

“Out,” Castiel uttered, trying to think of the easiest route out of the house that didn't involve his father catching him.

“Out? Out where?” Once again, Castiel didn't answer him, and suddenly Zachariah was right in front of him. “Say something, damn you!” He clenched his fists and his jaw and attempted to stare his son down, but Castiel didn't budge. “You're always silent. Not like your mother, she was always blabbering on about something. But you never say a fucking word.”

The slap came out of nowhere, though Castiel felt like he should have been expecting it. Still, it turned his head and whole body, making him take a step back, arm lifting to protect his face. Zachariah raised his hand again, but Castiel was too fast, darting away and ripping the back door open, letting it slam behind him on his father's angry shout.

He ran. He didn't know how far, but he ran until he couldn't breathe. Or until he _could_ breathe again, he wasn't sure. Eventually, he stopped, leaning against a wall somewhere and heaving asphalt tainted air into his lungs. He stood there for a long time, leaning his cheek against the cold stone after a while and letting it take away the ache that had started up along the entire left side of his face.

When he could finally breathe normally again—in, out, in, out—he started walking, finding street signs and making his way as quickly as he could to Afterlife. He just hoped everyone had gone for the night.

“I swear it Castiel, one of these days I'm just going to murder him.”

Castiel gave Anna a sideways glance and shook his head. “Don't.”

“And why shouldn't I? Why shouldn't he pay for what he's done to you? He's an asshole and a shitty goddamn parent and he certainly doesn’t deserve to live,” Anna argued heatedly.

They were standing by Castiel's locker as he was trying to decide if it was worth it to lug his history book to class when there was a good chance he would just sleep through the lecture and absorb the information anyway. He pointed a look of private disdain at his friend that probably came off as just apathetic. “He's not worth killing either.”

He turned away as she countered with her usual, “Just because he's your dad doesn't mean shit.”

Castiel tuned her out, the conversation one they'd had many times and one that he would never back down on except to say he was tired of talking about it. He was about to say just that when he heard his name called out in a freakishly familiar voice and glanced to the side to see Dean walking towards him, half a smile on his face. Castiel sighed silently to himself and tried to keep the now purple and green stained side of his face pointed towards Anna.

“Hey, Castiel,” Dean said as he stopped beside them, effectively shutting Anna up in the middle of her sentence. The older boy decided not to give him the satisfaction of an answer other than just the nod of his head, still facing away. “Uh, well, I wanted to ask you something real quick. As long as I'm not interrupting.”

“Who the hell are you?” Anna asked, her voice sharp and her anger from the previous conversation bleeding through.

Dean looked at her as if he had just noticed her. “I'm Dean.” He returned his attention to Castiel and continued, “Look, I just, I didn't mean to make you mad at me or anything. So, are we cool?”

With slightly sinking shoulders, Castiel turned to him and dipped his head as he said, “You did not upset me.” He could tell his movement was a mistake as soon as he made it because the other boy's eyebrows pulled together almost immediately and his eyes traced the dark bruising that covered Castiel's cheek.

“Jeez, that's nasty. What happened?” Dean asked with a grimace. He reached out a hand as if to touch Castiel's face, and while he himself did not flinch, Anna suddenly reacted from his side and slapped the inquisitive hand away.

She stepped forward slightly and put on her angry face that Castiel knew was not being faked. He was too late to reach out and stop her from saying, “I don't know who you are or what's going on, but don't touch him.”

Dean backed down without a fight but he looked indignant as he replied, “Okay, fine. I didn't realize nobody else could give a shit about your boyfriend.”

Anna didn't correct the assumption and Castiel couldn't find the right words fast enough to rebuke the comment, so he couldn't stop Dean from walking away a couple of seconds later. He did, however, turn a glare onto his friend after a moment and shut his locker with one hand as he chose to forego the textbook.

“Who was that kid?” Anna asked, returning his gaze with her own glare.

The bell rang above their heads and Castiel turned away, walking towards their first class without a response for her.

It was midnight by the time Anna finally left Castiel alone on the rooftop, the other Wings having already said their piece about the mark on his face and heeding the boy's words on staying away from his father. Anna had always had a protective streak through their friendship, and while Castiel often appreciated it, it could also get incredibly frustrating. So he was glad to have his rooftop alone for a while before he would inevitably have to go find a bed to sleep in.

Still, the moment felt bittersweet and Castiel had been left with a bad taste in his mouth since that morning and the little fiasco with Dean. Earlier, he had considered seeking the boy out, but it was impossible with Anna breathing down his neck the whole day. He glanced towards the apartment building where Dean lived, his eyes easily finding the window he'd seen Dean come from before. Without thinking about it too hard, Castiel got to his feet and started walking across the roof towards the fire escape.

He easily crossed over, pulling himself over the railing and attempting to keep his footsteps as quiet as possible as he traveled the few flights up to Dean's window. Kneeling outside of the apartment, Castiel debated for an entire minute before he reached out and let his knuckles rap against the glass. He couldn't see inside, the interior shrouded by a curtain, and Castiel waited, not taking his eyes off of the window.

A few moments later, the edge of the curtain was pushed to the side and Castiel got a glimpse of an unfamiliar face. He worried for a short second that he had the wrong window, but then the curtain was pushed out of the way and the glass was sliding up noisily in the quiet night. A young boy, no older than twelve or thirteen, looked at him in the low light and stuck his head through into the open air.

“So I'm gonna take a stab in the dark and say you're Castiel?” the boy asked, eyes unreadable.

“Yes. Is Dean in?” Castiel managed to get himself to say clearly.

The boy nodded and smiled for a moment. “Yeah, I'll wake him up.”

“You don't—”

“He said he was expecting you.”

Castiel was confused into silence and the boy disappeared inside. He sat back on his heels to wait. He didn't have to wait long and after just a minute he had to move back because Dean was clambering out onto the fire escape, clad in flannel pants and with a winter coat hanging off of one arm. Dean poked his head back inside and said something to the boy to the effect of, “I'll be back later,” before closing the window and turning to Castiel with a flushed face and a smile.

“Hey,” he said quietly.

Castiel had to stop the laugh that threatened to leave his throat and instead just smiled slightly. “Are you going to put on your coat?”

Dean looked down at himself and examined his coat before realizing he still had one arm out and quickly shoved it into the empty sleeve, zipping it up and looking away, embarrassed. “So, uh,” he started awkwardly. They were standing very close to each other, trapped by the confines of the railing and Castiel noticed it after a moment of silence.

“Will you come sit with me?”

With a sudden and relieved smile, Dean nodded and started leading the way down the steps. “I didn't think you'd come by, but it seemed like you wanted to say something earlier so I was hoping,” he said as they went, crossing over to Afterlife and finding a good spot near the edge, though Castiel sat with his chin on his knees, bruised side of his face towards Dean.

“I'm sorry for how Anna acted. She is very protective.” Castiel could feel the other boy's eyes on him, but he kept his own gaze on the city streets.

“Yeah, seems like.”

“She is not my girlfriend.”

Dean made a noncommittal noise. “Yeah?”

“We have been friends for a few years. We have a familial bond.” Thinking briefly back to when he joined the Wings, Castiel let his breath out from between his lips, fogging slightly in the chilly air. At least, he thought, he saw their friendship as very familial with their ties, but maybe Anna thought differently. He made a mental note to bring it up sometime.

“Was she angry about what happened to your face?”

Castiel huffed an annoyed laugh. “She always is.”

Dean shuffled his limbs around slightly so he was leaning back on his hands, legs crossed, but he turned his head towards Castiel. “What do you mean?”

Frowning, Castiel didn't quite know how to answer. Part of him wanted to confide in this almost stranger, but part of him was saying that he was an idiot for even seeing him again and sitting beside him when he should have been spending the night with just the moon for company. He was caught in this strange battle and when he looked to the boy for guidance, he found Dean simply staring off into the distance, looking for all the world as if he could wait forever for Castiel's answer.

“You don't have to tell me, you know,” Dean eventually said. “I know you're pretty quiet, plus you don't really know me, how could you trust me?”

Castiel thought for a long time, minutes passing like the airplanes overhead. Somewhere in the distance he could hear a train making its way through the city. “I joined the Wings at sixteen, two years ago. We're small but we're family and we take care of each other. I didn't have a family before.”

Dean didn't reply for a few minutes, as if waiting to make sure he was done speaking. “They didn't give you the bruise,” he muttered, not as a question.

Castiel shook his head slowly. “I stay here until I know my father is sleeping, then I can go back. Last night my timing was off.”

“It was me wasn't it? I threw you off last night,” Dean said slowly. When the elder boy turned to look at him, he was surprised to see the horror on Dean's face and leaned to the side slightly, towards him.

“No, it was my mistake. Not the first time.” Castiel felt something in him that wanted to get rid of that look on the other boy's face. It wanted to make sure he knew that it was not his fault. He refrained from saying any more and instead gazed at him long and hard until Dean relented and let out a sigh, resting his elbows on his knees, back curving forward. The silence that enveloped them felt like an old friend that had joined in whom they were listening to, waiting until the right time came to speak again.

Castiel found the moment first and asked quietly, “Who was the boy?”

The hint of a smile touched Dean's lips. “My kid brother, Sam. Our apartment is kind of shitty so we have to share a room.” Dean paused. “He's a good kid. I take care of him mostly.”

“Why?”

“My mom works at the hospital during the day and my dad's got night shifts as security so most of the time it's just Sammy and me. Been like that for years, though, ever since he was a baby he's been mine to look after.” He sounded proud as he spoke of his brother, but there was a sadness in his voice that Castiel latched onto.

“I'm sorry,” he said honestly, those two words soft but meaningful in the air, carrying around with them a heavy weight.

Dean looked over and smiled. “Thanks.” He sighed and tilted his head back to look up at the sky, where the moon was making her usual rounds.

But her pure light had absolutely nothing on the view of Dean's eyes soaking up the stars that lay deep in the recesses of the galaxy. Castiel couldn't tear his own eyes away and neither did he want to. It was the strangest feeling, watching a boy who had such an invisible burden on his shoulders and yet he barely let it show. He wanted to know more, he wanted to know just how deep Dean's feelings went, just how strong his love was for his brother and if he was the same with his friends. He wanted to know all the questions Dean had to ask and answer them all so he'd never have to wonder about anything ever again. He wanted to pull the moon to the earth and set it behind Dean so that he would forever be bathed in light that matched the beauty of his soul.

“You should go back to bed. We have class tomorrow,” Castiel said, blinking himself back into reality.

The yellow glow of the city lights framed the side of Dean's face when he looked over and snorted. “No way. I'm not leaving you alone up here tonight, so I'm staying until you can go.”

“What if that takes all night?” Castiel couldn't stop himself from asking.

Dean grinned. “Then I'll stay all night. Even if my ass freezes off.”

With a returning twitch of his lips, Castiel rested his chin back on his knees and let his eyes rove over Cipher. _Thank you,_ he whispered silently to no one in particular.

Almost a week later it was the setting sun that watched Castiel as he made his way through the streets and heading towards Afterlife from Anna's house. His mind was on Dean, who he hadn't seen since the night the boy had stayed with him until the wee hours of the morning. Neither had slept much that night, but the next day brought them into a flurry of schoolwork. Anna kept dragging Castiel along with her, making sure he was never far from sight and had coerced him into spending the entire weekend at her house and away from everyone, including the other members of the Wings.

But the new week came and that night, Castiel had plans to nab something from the kitchen for dinner and see if Luce was in, then he would return to the roof for his fix of the moon and hope that Dean would join him as well. The boy had waved to him several times passing each other by in the hallway, but with everything keeping them separated for a week, Castiel was feeling a bit emptier than usual. He enjoyed his companionable silence with Dean, just as much as he had actually grown to miss talking to him, which was an odd thing for Castiel.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that it took him a second extra than usual to see the dark shadow lurking around the alley he was about to pass. A sickeningly familiar face stepped out into the light and smirked at Castiel, arms crossed and leaning against a old and rusty blue mailbox. Steeling himself, Castiel put on his most neutral expression and kept moving closer, a dark feeling coiling in his gut.

“Fancy seeing you here, Clarence.” Meg's voice grated on his ears as he stopped an appropriate length away and watched her with hooded eyes. “Still the same old, same old, huh?” She shrugged and lifted herself from her stance against the mailbox, a smile present on her face that was sure to spoil milk.

“What do you want?” Castiel asked plainly, not moving, even as she stepped closer.

Suddenly, with the quiet _shink_ of metal, a small blade was in her hand and pressing ever so gently to his cheek, metal warm against his wind chilled skin. “Oh, Clarence, you actually speak!” she cooed, slowly slinking around him, knife trailing across his throat and to the back of his neck before she stopped back in front of him, the tip of her blade pushing into the skin just under his jaw. The top of her dark haired head barely reached his chin, but she was looking at him as if she was miles taller.

Castiel had to hold himself back from lunging at her, but he clenched his teeth. “What do you want?” he asked again, the words a hiss from his throat.

She took her knife back, spinning it around in her hand as she told him, “Nothing in particular. I just wanted to warn you, I guess.”

“About?” A slow malicious smile spread across her face and Meg turned away, sauntering off in the other direction. With a frustrated huff, Castiel reached out and grabbed her, spinning them around so that her back was pressed into the mailbox, his hands holding her down by her biceps.

“Wow, Clarence, I didn't know you had it in you.”

It was a lie, of course she did. Their meetings, though irregular, always ended in her teasing of Castiel until he was forced to make a move to get her to talk. It was a weird sick game she played, but it was to be expected from one of the Shades. “Tell me why.” Allowing all of his anger and disdain show through his eyes, Castiel stared Meg down.

She relented with a curl of her lips and a laugh. “Things are changing sweetie pie. They wouldn't want me to tell you, but I figure I owe you a little bit of a head's up.” Castiel let her go and stepped back, watching carefully as she rolled her shoulders and put her little switchblade into her pocket. Moving fast, she swung a fist towards his face, which he easily deflected, but he couldn't stop her quick jab to his stomach.

With a huff, she flipped her hair over her shoulder and turned away, leaving him clutching at his gut with one hand. “That's for grabbing me. Don't do it again.” With that, she slipped into the alley and out of sight.

Castiel straightened and let a sigh pass his lips, eyeing the dark corridor she had disappeared into for a moment before continuing on his way. He knew he would need to seek Luce out now, let him know what happened. It was part of the rules, to always let someone know when meeting a member of the rival gang, and unfortunately it seemed to always happen to Castiel. Meg was a strange woman, several years older but she had some odd fascination with him and continually sought him out for no reason at all except to raise the tensions with her gang.

The Shades were a wild band of misfits and dark souls. They were known for their violence and cunning, lead by Abaddon, widely known as the cruelest bitch around, and seconded by a man named Crowley who was as oily as the gasoline Luce filled his car with. Most of the gangs around their part of Cipher knew not to mess with the Shades, especially after their decimation of a smaller gang a few years back that had spent just a little too much time inside Shade borders. Unfortunately, they were the territory right next to the Wings and tensions had been running high with them since before Castiel joined. Secretly, he worried there would be a fight soon.

Castiel attempted to shake the uncomfortable feeling inside his chest and the fading pain in his stomach as he continued his way towards Afterlife. The sun was long gone when he arrived, though the moon had yet to show her face above the horizon. It would be another hour or so before then. Castiel entered the bar with heavy feet and moved to lean against the bar, catching the attention of Balthazar, who seemed to be counting bottle caps for some reason.

“Why the long face?” he asked, turning towards Castiel.

“Is Lucifer here?”

Balthy gave him a strange look but nodded his head towards the back. “Yeah, he's back there. Go on back.”

Castiel dipped his head and pushed himself from the bar, making his way towards the back rooms, where he knew Luce and Michael's offices were, though Michael rarely used his. As Balthazar had said, Luce was sitting at his desk, papers strewn in front of him and a pen tapping against his forehead in one hand. He looked up when Castiel entered and gestured to the only other chair in the room which sat in front of his desk.

“Come sit, Castiel.” The younger man did as he was told and ran a hand through his wind-ruffled hair. He waited as Luce scribbled something down on one of the papers before him before setting his pen down. He sat back as he said, “What's on your mind?” With clasped hands he watched Castiel with expectant eyes.

While Castiel normally would have taken a long time, or at least some time to find what he wanted to say, he felt the sounds leave his throat almost immediately as he told his leader, “Meg stopped me on my way back.”

Luce's eyes darkened slightly and he rested his elbows on the desk. “Did she hurt you?”

“Nothing bad. She had a warning.”

“What did she say?”

“Things are changing. The Shades didn't want her to tell me but she felt she owed me something.”

“Changing? And what does she owe you for?” Lucifer asked, his brow furrowing.

Castiel shrugged. “I'm not sure what she meant.”

Luce sat thinking for a long moment before sinking back in his chair again. “Thank you for telling me.” Castiel nodded and he continued, “Next time she tries anything, don't worry about the Shades, you just take care of yourself. Kick her ass.”

Castiel did not answer but stood and left the room, the gears in his mind turning around on Luce's words as well as his encounter with Meg. He retired to the roof then, not wanting to eat and ignoring Balthazar's call to him. He surmised that Luce would tell the rest what had happened and most of them knew well enough to leave Castiel alone once he reached the roof. So he took his customary spot and tried to let his mind wander, even pulling out a cigarette to get the creative juices flowing.

But, inevitably, his thoughts kept turning back to the evening's happenings. He felt as if Meg's knife was still pressing against his throat, but when he conjured up Luce's words, he couldn't see himself actually hurting the woman, at least not too badly. He was good at threatening, and he could easily hold his own in a fight, but that didn't mean he actually liked fighting, or that he wanted to. He didn't like violence, and that was the one downside of being in a gang. Violence was very nearly a requirement.

“You're out early.” Dean's voice startled Castiel into whipping his head around to see the boy walking towards him, hands buried deep in an old brown leather jacket's pockets.

Castiel followed his movements as he sat down and looked over to meet Castiel's gaze. “I... have a lot on my mind.”

Dean seemed pleased. “Yeah? Like what?”

Looking away, Castiel debated how much he wanted to actually say. Eventually he took a breath and said softly, “A rival gang member caught me on my way back today.”

“Are you okay?” Dean wasted no time in asking.

“I'm not hurt. She and I have met before.” Castiel thought for a long time, not looking at Dean as he planned his next words. “She is violent. I don't like her.” He was surprised to hear a low laugh from Dean. “Why is that funny?”

Dean shook his head slightly. “It's just, you're part of a gang and if I'm getting anything from this, it's that you don't like violence. So why are you in a gang?”

Castiel narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, turning his face away. “There is more to being in a gang than violence. Yes, I have to deal with it often, but I did not choose this life for that.”

“But?” Dean asked quietly.

“But... I sometimes wish I could leave it behind, not have to deal with fighting or violence or my leader telling me to hurt someone just because she may hurt me. But I know that wherever I go this is something I will see.” Castiel felt a sigh leave his lungs.

Dean took a moment before responding. “I just don't see why you're upset. Yeah, there's a lot of violence in life, but there's also a lot of good that happens.”

"There's so much wrong with this world, how can you not see that?" Castiel asked hotly. "There is so much pain..."

"I do see it, but I focus on the better things. Like how smart my brother is and how good it feels to laugh with my friends and how much I love my mom's pie and her hugs." Dean spoke slowly, his mouth curled in a faint smile.

Castiel didn't know what his mother's hug felt like. He didn't know if she ever made pie and he didn't have a little brother to be proud of or friends to laugh with. He knew the hard slap of his father's hand and the cold concrete underneath his feet. He knew the harsh words and sneering glances of other students and other gangs. How could anything about people be good, feel good, when all the ones he knew only hurt?

He was about to say as much when a thumb brushed across his chin and the words died on his tongue, his eyes widening. Gentle fingers moved up his cheek and a palm cupped his jaw. He forgot what he was going to say when he looked at Dean's face.

Dean's lips were parted, his expression genuine and calming, silent as his hands were doing the talking. Fingertips traced the shell of Castiel's ear and the curve of his brow, touch slow and steady. Without meaning to, all of Castiel's defenses shattered. His eyes fell shut and his shoulders slumped down. The fight in his chest unraveled when the hand that wasn't holding his cheek curled around the side of his neck, not tight at all, but simply resting there. Castiel's own hands were limp at his sides and his knees felt the tension leave him, his whole body coming to rest as putty at Dean's caresses. He leaned his head into Dean's hand.

"See?" Dean asked, breaking the relative silence of the night and their breaths with one quiet word.

Castiel couldn't reply. His lack of words was different than usual. He wished he could speak, wanted to tell Dean how much this meant. Dean was touching him, holding him, like he was some fragile statue, something to be treasured and given gentle care. In that moment, that was what Castiel felt like. He didn't feel like part of a gang, he didn't feel like someone intimidating or someone who would throw a punch if you looked at him wrong. He didn't feel cold, or distant, or angry like he usually did.

There were warm hands on his skin and he felt whole. The emptiness that not even the moon could fill was gone.

It could have been an hour or it could have been just a few minutes that they sat there before Castiel opened his eyes, meeting the bright green ones that were watching him with curiosity. Castiel wanted to speak, but when he opened his mouth his tongue refused to form words. Instead, his breath slipped out from between chapped lips and suddenly into Dean's as those green eyes closed along with the space between them.

Dean kissed with lips as languid as his hands, easy and slow and better than anything Castiel had ever felt. There was something about the movement of their mouths that was as strong as a hard kick to the ribs and felt similar in his chest. It wasn't painful, though, it was the kind of hard-hitting feeling that satisfied something deeply human within him. Castiel never knew he needed it until Dean's tongue brushed against his bottom lip, tender as all of his other motions were. He knew it was a feeling he could easily get addicted to even as he reached across the remaining space between them. His hands landed on Dean's thighs, grip tight enough to let him know he was there, but loose enough not to intrude upon the soothing slowness of their kissing.

He had no idea how much time they spent, lost in each other with fingers caressing and lips continuously pressing together as if they were physically unable to separate. Eventually, Dean pulled away, breathing hard but slow, like his lungs were filled with honey. Castiel could relate. Their hands were still locked on each other, afraid to move and feel the cool sting of air. Dean was smiling and Castiel had no idea what his own expression was, so lost was he in the lingering tingles in his lips, eyes trained on Dean's.

"Dean..." Castiel finally spoke, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper.

"Not everything is so bad, right?" Dean asked hopefully.

Castiel didn't know how to find the words to agree so he just leaned forward and buried a hand in the hair on the back of Dean's head, pulling him back into a kiss that was everything it was before and more. More passion, more heat, more... something. Castiel couldn't name what it was, but he felt it deep in the back of his throat, tingling through his lungs and crawling its way through his veins. It was heavy and warm and he felt sluggish, intoxicated. It was the best drug anyone could ever have and when he broke the connection to breathe, filling his lungs with the air Dean was breathing out, he knew he never wanted to give it up.

He stood, untangling himself from Dean, almost wincing when his skin was exposed to the cold air, no longer protected by Dean's touch. The other boy was still sitting, his face falling into a frown that made Castiel's heart clench even as he turned and escaped quickly and wordlessly.

"Wait! Cas!" He heard Dean shout behind him, but he was already jumping down the fire escape and running off into the shadows, praying for the first time that the moon's light would fade long enough to hide him away from that soul-searching green gaze.

He didn't even realize Dean had used a nickname until he was safely across the city and slipping into his silent, dark house.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, this end scene was the actual inspiration for this whole fic. All I wanted was a vulnerable Cas and Dean treating him like something valuable and then this whole mess of a story came to be! Please tell me what you think so far! Feedback is important to me <3
> 
> Also, I have no idea when I'll be updating next, it all depends on when I have time to write, but I'm currently out of work so I should have a little more time than in the past few weeks so we'll see!


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: the only knowledge I have about gangs is The Outsiders and West Side Story... Prepare your body cause shit's about to get real. Also I'm taking off the Graphic Violence warning cause this turned out a lot more canon typical than I was expecting... I don't know, I just wasn't feeling super violent while writing this? In other news, I fucking cranked this chapter out in the last two days and though I wanted it to be longer, this was the plan storywise sooo. Now to see if I can get the last part done by next week.. I think I can do it.

He avoided Afterlife for three days until Anna dragged him back. When night was well on its way, she took him up to the roof and sat down next to him, sharing a cigarette with him. He swore it was by accident that he happened to glance over to Dean's window and his chest definitely did not tighten at seeing that the window was closed and only darkness lay within.

Once Anna left, it was only Castiel's habit of staying all night that kept him there on the rooftop.

He turned sharply when he heard footsteps coming across the roof, standing as he recognized the figure. Even with his shoulders low and his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, seeing Dean walking towards him filled his lungs with warmth and excitement.

"Hey, Cas," Dean greeted him softly, coming to rest next to him, feet planted firmly and his gaze unwavering though cautious.

"You called me that last time, too." It wasn't what Castiel meant to say when he opened his mouth, but it was what came out and it was too late to take it back.

Dean smiled. "It fits, don't you think?" Castiel didn't respond. The smile fell after a moment and Dean looked at his feet, scuffing the dirt with the toe of one shoe. “So, uh... I'm sorry. About the other night I mean. I—I shouldn't have...”

“Dean.” The name left Castiel's lips without his conscious permission, but once it was out he had to continue. “It's okay. I'm sorry I ran.”

“It's cool. I mean, I'd freak out too if I was kissing someone as attractive as me.” Castiel stared a him a moment as a grin broke out on the other boy's face. He suddenly realized Dean was trying to lighten the mood and he allowed part of his mouth to twitch into a half-smile. “Mind if I sit with you, Cas?” Dean finally asked.

With a gesture, Cas—he liked the way it sounded falling from Dean's lips—sat down, and watched the street as the younger boy settled beside him. They fell into a comfortable silence and Castiel realized he'd missed that more than anything. Just the steady breaths of Dean beside him and the whole night at his fingertips. October was well under way and would become November before they knew it. Even though the winter would freeze him off the roof, he still looked forward to the snow on the ground and cloudy days.

“Tell me about the Wings,” Dean said quietly after a long time.

Castiel thought for a while before responding. “Anna and I are the youngest. Gabriel next, he's the cousin of our leaders, Michael and Lucifer. Michael is very distant, but Luce is a good leader and a good person. This bar is our 'base of operations' as you might call it, and it's owned by Gadreel and Balthazar. Uriel and Raphael do a lot of the work for us, though I'm not sure what it is they really do. Their relatives Ion and Ezekiel sometimes help us out, but they're not tattooed.”

“Tattoed?” Dean asked, looking over at him.

Holding out his wrist, Cas pulled back his sleeve a little to reveal the three feathers that were that mark of the Wings. He readied himself to flinch when Dean reached out to take his arm and examine the mark. But the boy's touch was gentle and coaxing and had Cas relaxing almost immediately. He traced the edges of the feathers with one light finger before letting go and making Castiel almost miss the soft warmth. He was brought back to when Dean had touched him before, hands comforting where no hands ever had been before.

“It's beautiful,” the younger boy told him. Castiel nodded in response, his tongue tied up in a million knots. “Think I could ever meet your gang? You sound like most of them are pretty cool.”

Cas snorted a laugh and met his eyes. “They would take one look at you and never stop trying to recruit you.”

“Why do you say that?”

Taking a deep breath, Castiel replied, “Because you are the type of person everyone would want on their side.”

“Huh,” Dean frowned as if that was bad news. He was quiet again and Castiel didn't know what to say, so he too was silent.

Cas didn't bother trying to count the time as it passed them by. The moon rose steadily higher and the stars roamed across the sky, shedding light on their faces and cold cheeks. A breeze picked up and Castiel glanced over to see it pass through Dean's hair, the strands moving with invisible hands. He remembered how it felt to have his own hand there, holding tightly but not enough to hurt, just enough to get Dean's mouth where he wanted it.

“Dean?” The name fell unbidden from Cas' lips.

“Yeah?” Dean turned to him and if he was surprised to see Castiel staring intently, he didn't show it.

“If it's okay, I'd like to kiss you again.”

A wide smile graced Dean's face and he moved his body to face Cas. “Yeah, that'd be okay.”

Tentatively, Castiel reached out a hand and rested it on Dean's cheek, thumb brushing just underneath his eye. He watched closely as Dean's eyelids fell shut and his lips molded into a gentle curving smile. Drawing him forward, Cas pressed a kiss to the corner of that smile. His hand slid back and into Dean's hair, guiding him into an open-mouthed kiss that felt all at once familiar and like the start of something incredibly new.

Dean kissed like he knew what he was doing and while Castiel was more of a child fumbling in the dark, he knew he wanted so much more and nearly moaned when Dean put his hands on the tops of Castiel's thighs, pulling himself closer. They traded caresses of lips and tongues, every kiss sweeter than the last. Cas didn't know where to touch Dean, so he kept one hand on the back of his head and let the other rest on his hip, continually reminding himself to not grip too tightly lest he hurt Dean.

Castiel felt... well he felt something. The heat of the other boy was like a calling and Cas wanted to wrap himself in it forever and never leave. He ached to feel the warm embrace of the other boy's arms around him. Vaguely, he wondered if what he was feeling was because he'd gone through so many years of his life without a loving touch, not even from the few friends he'd had. But he fell into Dean's body like he'd always known what to do and wrapped an arm around his middle to tug the younger boy close, nearly onto his lap. With a dip of his head, Dean moved his lips to Cas' jaw then his earlobe, cold from the night air. He tugged gently at the skin with his teeth and Castiel felt a noise building in his throat.

It died as he heard a voice call out somewhere behind him, “Dean!”

Dean dropped his forehead to Castiel's shoulder with a sigh and let his shoulders slump. “Shit, that's my brother.” He lifted his head enough to look over at the apartment building and Cas turned his head enough to see the young boy halfway out the window and waving frantically.

“You better get in here!” he shouted over to them.

Groaning, Dean leaned away from Castiel and had a darker look on his face than Cas was used to seeing. “I better go.”

“Okay,” Castiel told him quietly, slowly releasing the hold his hands still had on the other boy. Dean's fingers clutched at the hem of Cas' shirt before he abruptly leaned in again to steal another kiss. Castiel watched as he got to his feet and scurried up the fire escape to his brother, waving goodbye once before disappearing inside. “Guess it's just me and you again,” he whispered to the sky, eyes lingering on the moon high above as his fingertips brushed against his lips, where Dean's had been just moments before.

Pulling a cigarette from his pocket and a lighter, Castiel lit it and pulled a lungful of smoke out, letting it cloud the air and his view of the stars for a moment as he relaxed back against the roof, content to sit for a while longer before heading to bed.

The sun was bright on the back of Cas' neck as he sat down across from Anna. It was lunchtime and they were bundled against the cold snap in the air that hit that morning, the sun not doing much to warm them up. Castiel could feel his friend's eyes on him, worrying holes in his forehead, and he leaned his chin on his palm, elbows on the table, not really wanted to answer Anna's inevitable question of how he was doing.

It came after just a few short moments as she tilted her head. “Are you okay? You seem more out of it than usual.”

“I'm fine,” he told her, gaze meeting Anna's to convince her.

“Alright, I'm just checking. I know it's been a while but...”

“Anna,” Castiel stopped her before she finished. She pursed her lips but let it drop and for that Cas was grateful. They sat in relative silence for a minute, the sounds of other students eating lunch and chatting surrounding them, though they had chosen a table as much to the side as possible.

“I hope I'm not interrupting anything.” Dean's voice had Castiel turning before he'd finished speaking. The younger boy had a paper bag in one hand and sat next to Cas as if he had every right to be there, ignoring the confused look Anna had contorted her face into.

“Aren't you that kid from the other day?” she asked, eyes narrowing.

“Yeah and you're the protective not-girlfriend.” Dean grinned at her, but not maliciously.

“What are you doing here?”

“Anna, it's okay,” Castiel finally spoke. She looked at him with a guarded gaze.

She asked skeptically, “Who's he?”

With a glance at Dean, he tried to find the best words. “A friend,” he told Anna.

One of her brows raised and she looked between them. “You mean a boyfriend, don't you.” It wasn't a question.

When Castiel didn't reply, Anna looked to Dean. “That's up to him,” he said to her with a nod in Cas' direction. The older boy thought for a moment before nodding once.

Anna bit the inside of her cheek and watched them carefully. “You weren't going to tell me?” she asked Castiel.

He shrugged. “Eventually.” Really, he meant he hadn't thought much about it and figured at some point it would just come out and Anna would know then. He honestly didn't know if she would've reacted any differently.

Slowly, Anna said, “I'm not saying I'm not happy for you, but I don't really understand. How did you even meet?”

Dean brought the corners of his mouth down in a “Who knows?” kind of expression. “I'm not very good at listening to warnings,” he told her.

At the same time, Castiel said quietly, “Conveniently placed fire escapes.”

For a moment, Anna just looked at them. Then, she burst out laughing, Dean following soon after with a chuckle. Castiel could feel himself smiling and he looked over as Dean rested a hand on his leg. He didn't push the hand away and after that, the air felt a little lighter between the trio.

Lunch ended quickly and Dean smiled his goodbye as Anna and Castiel went towards the other side of the school for class. The curl of the redhead's lips slowly dropped into a frown, though she wasn't looking at Cas. He watched her from the corner of his eye as they walked and eventually asked, “What's on your mind?”

She jumped slightly and looked over as if surprised he'd asked. “It's just... It's nothing.” Castiel fixed her with a look until she sighed and relented. “I'm worried. About you.”

“Don't be.”

“No, Castiel. I just, I don't want you to leave the Wings.”

Cas stopped and turned towards her, uncaring that they were in the middle of the hallway, other students walking around them. “I'm not going to.” He hoped his expression conveyed that sure, he may have found somebody interesting outside of the gang, but he didn't want to leave. He liked feeling like he had somewhere to belong and people who would always have his back. There were downsides, but he'd dealt with them for two years already. He wasn't about to give all that up.

She glanced away for a moment. “I also don't want you to drag anyone else in. He seems like a nice guy and I'm really happy for you, but I don't want him to get mixed up in what we do either. Everyone keeps saying there's going to be a fight soon after what happened with Meg.”

A warm feeling passed through Castiel and he let one hand touch her shoulder while he said, “I don't want him to either. I know what I'm doing.” He really didn't, but as he turned away to keep walking, he wanted Anna to not have to worry so much. He could feel her gaze on the back of his head.

“So, let me guess. You grew up here, right?” Cas nodded his answer to Dean's question, leaning back a little more on his hands. “And you probably know this area really well then.” Again he nodded. “So... you probably know some great places to walk around or to, you know, just hang out.”

Castiel looked across the small space between them to see Dean's eager face, his legs kicking lightly off the side of the building. “Yes. And?”

“Aaaaand,” Dean drawled, “you should show me some places you like going.” Cas tilted his head. “Come on, man,” Dean exclaimed, leaning forward. “My butt feels like it's gonna fall off pretty soon and walking around sounds like a great way to stay warm.”

Thinking for a moment, Castiel eyed the black sky, judging the time. “I know a few places,” he said slowly.

Immediately, Dean jumped up and said, “Hell yeah, let's go!” He held out a hand with a grin firmly on his face and as soon as Cas took the outstretched limb, he was pulled to his feet.

Castiel led the way down from the roof and into the alley behind Afterlife. He had several places in mind that he enjoyed spending time at other than the bar and was trying to decide which to take Dean to as the boy dropped down beside him. “Would you rather see a park or a good view?”

“Whatever you want,” Dean said to him with a smile.

Turning, Cas started walking, Dean quickly catching up and matching his step. They ducked through alleys and underneath streetlights, bathed in orange light for a few seconds at a time. The odd night traveler passed them by wordlessly and a few cars drove by as well, headlights glowing in the night. Dean didn't speak as they moved, one foot at a time, and Castiel didn't know what to tell him, so he too said nothing.

It didn't take too long to reach their destination. This part of the city was all residential and cut through the middle by a large, deep canal, lined with shiny fence. But overhead lay a pedestrian bridge that connected the two sides of the neighborhood and Cas' feet took them towards the closest spiral staircase that led up just the ten meters or so. No one came out by that time of night and they walked through the enclosed little space towards the middle, eyes taking in the graffiti on the concrete and the various items tied to the fencing. Castiel had always found it almost beautiful, that along with the view.

“Wow,” Dean breathed as he sat cross-legged next to Castiel. The elder boy smiled and looked out over the canal, where the light of the waning moon was reflecting off the water and the houses looked like a black painting on a deep blue sky, littered with stars.

“I don't come here often, usually only when I have the time or have business on this side. My house is the opposite direction from Afterlife,” Cas spoke softly. A car drove underneath them, the sound of the engine loud for just a moment before fading fast as its taillights disappeared.

“I can see why you like it, though. I feel like we're a lot higher up than we actually are.” Dean's eyes were glowing and his face nearly touched the fence for how close he was leaning to it, watching the water below as it rippled and shone. “Thank you for this, Cas,” he added, turning to look at him.

“You are welcome,” Castiel replied honestly. He continued watching the water, but he started when Dean suddenly leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek before moving away again. Cas eyed him but Dean wasn't paying attention anymore, his lips curled in a gentle smile.

The days started feeling almost surreal as Castiel waited for nights to come when he could spend time with Dean. He sometimes spent lunches with Cas and Anna, though he seemed to want to allow their friendship to stay strong and mostly saw Cas in the night. They would meet on the roof, usually staying out there for a while before Dean needed to go inside to sleep, though they often explored the streets together, walking side by side, keeping warm as November greeted them with a bitter chill.

Dean had yet to try anything more than kissing Cas on the cheek and sometimes fitting their fingers together when they sat with shoulders touching. He was slowly getting Castiel used to touch, just a brush of hands or arms when they walked. He no longer even blinked when Anna bumped his shoulder or touched his arm when she was excited about something. He often found himself standing not only closer to her but Gabriel as well and other Wings. But Castiel wasn't the only one seeing these things in himself.

It was a typical Tuesday after class and Cas was sitting at the bar, smiling a short thank you to Gadreel when the older man placed a soda next to him. Anna was arguing about something with Gabriel as she sat on the pool table and Cas knew Luce was in the back with Raphael. Balthazar was supposed to be in soon to take over for Gadreel and Castiel had a date with Dean later on, though he didn't know what the boy had in mind, just that they would be going somewhere instead of staying on the roof.

Gadreel was watching Cas carefully, an unreadable look in his blue eyes though he was wearing a faint smile. “Something's different about you, Castiel,” he said softly, moving closer to lean down on the counter behind the bar.

The younger man had been looking in his direction, but returned focus to him and asked, “What do you mean?”

“I don't know, there's just something... easier about you. You smile more than you ever used to.” Gadreel shrugged.

Cas frowned and glanced towards Anna quickly. “I suppose.”

“More talkative, too. But that's not a bad thing at all, don't misunderstand me,” the older man laughed. “It's just got me wondering.” At Castiel's tilt of his head, he continued, “Why these changes now? As long as I've known you you've been quiet and distant and, well, a bit emotionless.”

“What's this about Castiel?” Luce's voice floated over to them as he moved towards the bar, Raphael trailing behind him and looking a little morbid. But while Luce stopped at the stool next to Cas, Raphael kept going and left the bar, presumably to take care of some sort of business. Cas didn't ask too many questions he didn't want to know the answers to.

Gadreel straightened a bit, an easy smile on his face. “Nothing bad, I promise. Have you noticed he's been a little lighter lately? Smiling more, talking more, that sort of thing.”

Luce eyed Castiel with a contemplative look and Cas felt himself blush a little under the scrutiny. “Maybe he's got a girlfriend,” the leader said with a wink.

“I thought of that,” Gadreel muttered with a chuckle. “Well, Castiel? Who's the lucky girl?”

“There isn't one,” Castiel told them, not looking either straight in the eye. He wasn't sure how much he should say, but behind Luce he could see Anna now paying attention to what was happening, her eyebrows drawn together.

Luce made a skeptical face. “Huh. Well, whatever the reason I'm sure it's a good one if it's getting our Castiel to be a little happier.” He winked again at Cas and slapped his hand to the counter before stepping away. “I'm off. Have a lovely night everybody,” he said, waving to the others on the pool table and leaving.

A chorus of “Bye, Luce,” followed him out the door before Anna appeared at Cas' elbow.

She raised her eyebrows at him in a pointed look. Castiel just shrugged. Turning to Gadreel, she told him, “He's been hanging out a lot with me lately, maybe my charm is just getting to him.”

The man laughed with his head tilted back. “I'm sure. Whatever it is, I'm glad.” With one last smile towards Cas, he returned to his work, grabbing a broom and heading towards Gabriel, probably to ask the boy to help him out.

“So,” Anna started, looking back at Cas and leaning her side against the bar.

“Thanks,” he told her gratefully.

She lifted one shoulder. “It's not like it's a lie.” Suddenly, she smirked. “Got any plans with lover-boy tonight?”

Cas felt his cheeks heat and he looked down at his soda. “He apparently wants to take me somewhere. I don't know where yet.”

“Ooh, an adventure!” She bumped his arm with her elbow. “I'm sure you'll have fun.”

“Yes,” he replied simply, lips curling, hidden from her gaze.

It wasn't long before he climbed up to the roof, taking his seat and lighting up a cigarette. The moon was half full and Cas knew it would be just another week or so before the metaphorical wolves would be howling. Half of his cigarette burned out by the time he took a drag and heard footsteps behind him. A sigh filled the air as Dean plopped down beside him.

“What's wrong?” Castiel asked, turning his head to see a morose looking Dean, back hunched and tense.

Dean didn't glance at him as he said, “Just my dad. He's kind of an asshole sometimes.” He shook his head and let out a heavy breath. “Sorry I'm late.”

“It's okay. I didn't even notice.”

“Been out here long?”

“Probably,” Cas told him honestly, having lost track of time. He waited for Dean to speak again, eyes continually flicking from the sky to the boy's face, not liking the way the light was making his face look hallowed.

“I wanted to take you to a movie tonight, but it's too late now,” Dean finally said.

Cas turned a little towards him in surprise. “Oh. We could always go another night.”

With a sigh, Dean relented, “Yeah, I guess.”

He was quiet after that so Cas stubbed his cigarette out and surreptitiously moved closer to him. After a minute, he was close enough to wrap an arm around Dean's middle, hand resting just below his ribs and holding him in a half-embrace of sorts. Almost immediately, Dean relaxed into his side, even letting his head rest on Castiel's shoulder. With his free hand, Cas took one of the other boy's and held him in silence. When he glanced out of the corner of his eye, he could see the moonlight lighting up the top of Dean's head, his sandy hair looking almost white. Slowly, Castiel leaned his cheek on that hair, feeling warmth seep into his skin.

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean whispered after what could have been an hour or a tenth of that.

Eventually, Castiel spoke in return. “What movie did you want to see?”

Dean huffed a laugh. “It's dumb,” he mumbled. “Some teenage comedy my brother told me about. I just thought it'd be nice to go somewhere for a little while. But...” he paused and took a breath, threading his fingers with Cas' a little tighter, “this is nice, too.”

“Maybe next weekend we could go. You could invite Sam if you wanted,” Cas told him, a smile on his lips that he knew Dean couldn't see.

“Maybe bring Anna, too? Make it an outing.”

Castiel rubbed his cheek slightly into Dean's hair. “I'd like that.”

“Me too.” They were both quiet, the sounds of their breaths surrounding their ears along with the average city bustle, much calmer now that it was quite late. Cas was sure Dean could hear his heartbeat, but it was steady and hard and he felt content in that moment, happy to just be close to Dean.

It was a long time before Dean broke the silence, sitting up though his hand was still in Cas', the older boy's arm loosely around him. “I'm leaving tomorrow for a few days. My dad needs to go see my uncle about something and he's taking me with him.” He sounded angry and reluctant as he spoke and Castiel watched the frown on his face.

“When will you be back?”

Dean shrugged. “My dad says Friday night, he can only miss a couple nights of work. As soon as I come back I'll come see you.”

“Okay,” Cas agreed, looking down at the street.

Fingers touched his chin and brought his face back around, a warm palm cupping his jaw. Dean stared into his eyes for just a moment as if asking permission, but Castiel was already moving forward. They met in a gentle crash of plush lips, heads tilting and bodies turning as they fit together like they were meant to do so. Cas held onto Dean like a lifeline, something to keep him grounded lest he lose himself in the sweet slide of mouths and tongues, which he knew he could easily do.

Kissing Dean was as easy as breathing and Cas felt like he needed it as much as he needed to fill his lungs. It was a primal instinct, built into the deepest recesses of his functions. He needed Dean like he needed water and sleep and the comfort of his hands on Cas' face was so satisfying that Castiel didn't know how he ever really lived without it for so many years. He didn't know how he made it through the past couple of weeks without this kind of incredible touch every minute he spent with Dean.

Inch by inch, Dean was moving closer, and soon Castiel found himself with a lapful of boy, knees bracketing his hips as wild hands tangled in dark, wild hair. Cas gripped Dean's thighs and tugged him closer. But it ended up offsetting his balance and Cas fell backwards, slowing his descent with one elbow but landing on his back, Dean crashing down after him, catching himself on his hands. Their chests were pressed together and Castiel laughed suddenly, tilting his head back and facing the moon, bright in the dark sky.

Dean grinned and laughed back, shifting his weight so that he wasn't crushing Cas when he relaxed. “Guess that's one way to get things going,” he said mildly.

Castiel huffed at him but his mouth was curled into a wide smile that felt at once foreign and wonderful. His face was mirrored in Dean's eyes and he reached a hand up to lead the boy into another kiss, brushing the laughter away from his lips but leaving the mirth in his gaze. It was a good look on the younger boy's face, much better than the emotions occupying his face when the night began. Cas felt a strange gratitude that he could be the one to take those feelings away and replace them with happiness and joy if even for a moment or a night.

Eventually, Dean pulled his tantalizing mouth away, leaving Cas gasping for cold breath, heart racing. The younger boy shifted slightly to lay his head on Cas' shoulder and frame his head with his arms. Wrapping his own arms around Dean's back, Cas relaxed back onto the roof, swaddled in warmth, his nose buried in Dean's hair to breathe in his scent. He wanted to memorize it, and everything else about him, really. Castiel was taking the moment to soak up as much of Dean as he could for the next few days.

“I'll miss you,” Dean muttered after a while.

“It's not for too long.”

“I know. Still. I like you a lot, Cas, if you couldn't already tell.”

Castiel's chest shook as he chuckled. “I like you too, Dean.

Their parting later was with a bittersweet kiss and Castiel dragged his feet as he returned home, only to fall into bed and dream of green eyes and pink lips.

The next two days passed slowly and Cas often caught himself looking into the distance with a blank expression. Anna asked him no less than five times if he was alright before he told her Dean was gone, only to regret it as soon as she started cooing and made him spend that first night at her house watching movies and spilling the details of how his and Dean's relationship was going.

But, inevitably, Friday came and Castiel was anxious from the moment he woke up. He didn't understand why. Dean was supposed to be returning to the city and he said he'd see Cas as soon as he got back. Castiel had gotten so used to being around him that it seemed like it should have felt like nothing but excitement to see him again. He was quiet, not usually so in the scope of his life, but very strangely so in the scope of the past month, and Anna seemed to double her efforts to get him to smile than she ever used to.

Throughout school, Castiel began feeling a little better. His mind preoccupied by the droning of his teachers and the scrape of the pen in his hand as he scribbled notes. The ringing of the bells was a clock ticking down closer and closer to when night fell and he could reach the roof to wait. Finally, he was done, and Anna linked their arms together as they left the campus, ready for the weekend and a little time to relax with the gang.

“Any big plans this weekend?” Anna asked Cas casually as they walked towards Afterlife.

He shrugged and pursed his lips. “Dean had mentioned going to a movie. He wanted to invite you and his brother as well.”

Anna jumped and turned to him with a grin. “No way.”

Castiel felt a laugh bubble in his chest. “We thought it might be nice to have a little outing, as Dean put it.”

“Yeah, I'd love to!” There was a bounce in her step that hadn't been there before as they continued walking. “What movie is it?”

“I don't know, he didn't tell me the name. Some comedy of sorts.”

“Sounds great.” She was still smiling wide when Cas looked at her out of the corner of his eye. He felt his own lips curl as they arrived at the bar, entering with arms still locked.

The sight that greeted them had Castiel's smile falling away and his stomach dropping within seconds. He let go of Anna and looked around, taking in the entire gang leaning against the bar or standing in pairs. Luce looked over at him from where he was talking with Michael and had a closed off expression. Gabriel suddenly appeared before Cas, his eyes flicking between him and Anna, and he ushered them further inside and towards the corner of the room.

“What the hell is going on?” Anna asked him quickly, voice low.

“I'm not completely sure but I think it's safe to say the fight's going down tonight with the Shades. Michael said he was waiting for you two before he told us everything.” Castiel listened as Gabriel replied, but his gaze was still scouring the room, unhappy to see both Ion and Ezekiel next to Balthazar, two who sometimes helped out but only when things were going to be really rough.

“Shit,” Anna whispered. “This is going to suck.”

Castiel watched as Michael touched his brother's arm before moving to stand at the front, where everyone could see him. “Now that everyone is here,” he started, the room immediately falling silent. “We've all been waiting for it to happen, but tonight is the night. Crowley paid me a visit yesterday evening with a proposal. He said that if we gave the Shades half of our territory, they wouldn't kill us all. I think we can do a little better though, don't you all?” A murmur of agreement rose up as heads nodded.

“Tonight is the deciding factor. Whoever wins—well—wins. We've called for a fair fight, but expect them to cheat as they usually do.” Angry hums emanated from several members. “After dark, we'll be traveling to the border with them. I chose the place and we'll be by the canal.” He waited until everyone nodded in assent before continuing. Michael looked towards the trio of the youngest in the back, eyes lingering on Castiel. “I want Anna and Gabriel to stay behind tonight—”

“What?!” Anna exclaimed, her eyes narrowed. Michael's expression shut her up, though she just leaned back with her arms crossed.

“I can only bring nine against nine and I need someone here in case it's a ploy and they want our headquarters empty.”

“Let Castiel stay, I want to come,” Anna argued, though her voice was softer, more pleading.

Michael shook his head. “No, I want him to be there. He knows the area well.”

The redhead glanced over at Cas but she didn't speak again. He leaned over and brushed their arms together because he knew she just wanted him to stay out of harm's way as much as possible. But Castiel knew his place, and though his heart was steadily sinking, he would do what he had to.

“We leave in a few hours,” Michael finished, turning away and heading towards the back, Luce slowly following, but not before meeting Castiel's eyes and then taking a beer from Balthazar's hand as he held it out, face grim.

“I'm sorry, Castiel,” Anna said softly, turning to him. Gabriel looked at her quizzically.

“It's alright. I know my place.” Cas reached for his backpack, which he had set on the floor during Michael's speech, and pulled out a notebook and a pen.

“Do you want me to...?”

“No, Anna,” he told her quietly. His hand wasn't shaking but he felt like it should have been as he tore out a blank page and wrote a quick note. Anna was looking over his shoulder at first but turned to Gabe in an effort to engage him in conversation away from Cas. For that, he was immeasurably grateful. He soon finished the note and read over it once before folding it to shove in his pocket. He put his materials away slowly and moved away from the others without a word, walking towards the back door.

“Hey, where you going?” Gabriel called after him.

He ignored the question and heard Anna's voice say, “Let him be,” as he left the building.

Cas climbed to the roof, standing for a long moment in the sun, something he hadn't done up there in quite a while. Silently, he made his way up the fire escape to Dean's window. He considered knocking, but instead he simply pulled the note from his pocket and stuck it between the glass and the sill, making sure the wind wouldn't blow it away. He needed it to be found. As he turned away, the words he wrote screamed at him beneath his eyelids, their image burned into his mind.

“ _Dean_

_The fight is happening. I hope I will see you again, but I don't know what may happen. I've enjoyed our time together._

_-Cas”_

The goodbye felt vague and wrong but Castiel didn't know if he trusted himself to say any more. He returned to the roof and pulled out a cigarette, holding it between his lips but not making a move to light it as he sat in the sunlight. The reflections on the cars below hurt his eyes but he couldn't turn away. He didn't look up when Anna sat beside him and took one of his hands in her own, comfort in the simple touch.

“He's been good for you.” Anna's voice was soft but it startled Cas enough to glance over at her out of the corner of his eye. “I'd always hoped maybe Gabriel and I could help you, but we were never the right types.” She took a breath and squeezed his hand. “You'll come back, right?”

Slowly, Castiel turned to her. “Of course,” he lied, taking his hand back only to let his cigarette fall to his lap and wrap his arms around her. Anna's head rested on his shoulder, her arms loosely around his back. Cas had never noticed it, but she smelled vaguely fruity. Her hair was soft on his chin and he held her a little tighter.

The moon was well above the horizon, at least three-quarters full, when the Wings arrived at the meeting place. They didn't hide as they walked, but stood tall and proud, fearless in the night. The Shades came slowly from the shadows, slinking into view around their leather clad leader. Abaddon rose from the darkness like a queen, Crowley her oily shadow in a dark suit behind her. They stepped forward to meet Michael and Lucifer, smug smiles on their faces to rival the brothers' unamused stares.

Castiel could see Meg moving towards him, her lips curled as she sized him up. Both sides took their places in facing each other and Cas looked over their rivals, seeing familiar faces like Azazel and Lilith, but new ones as well. He hoped they weren't actually as tough as they looked. But he had faith in his own gang. He knew their strengths and had no doubt they would all do their best. After making sure Meg had stopped a fair distance away, Cas returned his attention to the meeting of the leaders.

Abaddon was watching everyone with her hands on her hips, disdain in her eyes. Her lips looked bloody with lipstick but her teeth were shiny and white. “Still want a fair fight?” she asked loudly enough for all to hear.

“I don't break promises,” Michael told her, monotone.

She laughed in a way that made Castiel's skin crawl. He glanced uneasily at Balthazar next to him, the older man's eyes hard as he watched the exchange with rapt attention. “A deal is a deal, after all.”

“How do you want to do this?” Michael asked, nonplussed. Castiel saw movement in the corner of his eye and turned his face just enough to see someone sneaking away, back the way they came. He recognized the dark shape as Gadreel and had just a moment to ponder where he was going before Abaddon answered.

“It's an even fight,” she mused, blood red lips stretching in a grin. “Are you sure your men can handle themselves?”

Michael's reply was a stony, “Yes.”

“Then we won't go easy on you.” The threat was accompanied by dark laughter that flowed through the Shades' ranks.

Castiel moved his eyes back to where Meg was starting to step closer. Beside her was Lilith, a sweet looking young woman that had a black glint in her eyes as she circled Balthazar. Cas couldn't see who everyone else was occupied with, but he was starting to get a bad feeling at the gleeful expression on Meg's face. Her hands were empty but slightly raised and Cas shifted his feet slightly in anticipation.

“I warned you, you know,” she said slowly, voice like bitter molasses.

“It wasn't much of a warning,” Castiel replied icily. He was waiting for her to make the first strike, watching the movement of her body carefully.

In a blink, she was in front of him, fist raised, but Castiel blocked her, knocking her arm out of the way. “It's our little secret,” Meg whispered before spinning away a couple of feet.

They circled each other carefully, steps measured and though Castiel could hear the sounds of struggle behind him, he tried to block it out. She struck again, this time with a kick, but Castiel again blocked her, not trying to hit her back, but hoping he might be able to tire her out and escape unscathed. His hopes were dashed when she threw a punch and then a quick kick, clocking him in the ribs with her foot. Pain blossomed in his side, but Cas didn't let it show.

“What's the matter, Clarence? Not gonna hit a girl?” Meg teased, smile more venomous than a snake.

Cas didn't rise to the bait, but took a half step backward. She followed him. Every few seconds she would lash out, but Castiel almost always blocked her, only getting one other kick into the same side as before. He was sure at least one of his ribs was cracked. But as they went on, Castiel steadily moved back, away from the rest of the fighting. In the corners of his eyes he could see others trading lashes and blows and something a little strange, but he didn't have time to think what it was before Meg was aiming another kick to his ribs.

Suddenly, he grabbed her ankle with both hands and pulled her towards him, offsetting her center of balance. Her face looked stricken as she fell into him, but at the last moment, Cas moved to the side, his leg tripping up her stationary foot and he let her go to watch her tumble to the ground and then roll a few yards down the hill that Castiel had been backing up towards. While she was busy trying to pick herself up from the ground, Cas took another look at the rest of the groups.

He realized suddenly what he had thought was strange. Every one of his fellow Wings was preoccupied, but both Abaddon and Crowley were on Lucifer, Michael busy with Alistair. There was one member missing, and he had a sinking feeling that he knew who it was. He watched as Michael threw Alistair to the ground, boot on his neck and crushing him into the ground. Right when he hit the ground, Abaddon told hold of Luce and turned him outward, keeping him in a stranglehold. Something glinted in her hand and she pressed the blade of a knife to his neck, turning towards Michael.

From behind him, Castiel heard Meg moving and flipped around to see her coming towards him, arm raised with her switchblade in hand. In a precise and calculated move, he knocked her raised arm away, grabbed hold of her other one and twisted her around in a fluid motion to gather both her wrists behind her back. The knife dropped to the ground and Meg cried out in frustration and pain as Castiel gripped her tight. With her more or less subdued, he turned back to the commotion, eyes roving over the pairs of fighters. Many of his own were being held down, either on the ground or twisted over in a stranglehold. Uriel had his man, what looked to be Azazel, on the ground face-first, and Ezekiel was pushing Ruby into the dirt with one knee. All eyes were on Abaddon.

“I don't know about you, but I feel like I'm on the upper hand here, wouldn't you agree?” she asked menacingly. Michael was staring at her in opposition, his body poised to strike while his foot was still on Alistair. Crowley stood in the background, hands folded and smiling.

“Why do I feel like someone is missing here?” Michael took a second to glance around him, anger and confusion plain on his face.

“Ah, you mean my man,” Crowley piped up, taking a step forward and dropping his hands to clasp behind his back. “It's truly astounding what a good sum of money will make a man do.”

“Who betrayed me?” Michael thundered, looking behind him at everyone gathered.

“Gadreel,” Castiel called out. Michael turned to him with piercing eyes. “I saw him leaving just before the fight.”

The leader's head was bent slightly when he looked back at Abaddon, watching her as she trailed the end of her knife down Luce's neck towards his collar. She laughed cruelly. “One man has already betrayed you tonight. Now you'll see your own brother die, and then the rest of your little crew. Unless, of course, they decide to join me instead. All are welcome to,” she added, addressing the rest of the Wings.

“No thanks sweetheart, I think I'll take my chances,” Balthazar said from his position on his knees in front of Lilith. She sneered at him and Castiel saw his eyes roll.

Abaddon shrugged like it was no consequence to her. The hand holding her knife slowly raised away from Luce's neck and she looked like she was ready to stab it directly into his jugular. Castiel could feel a shout on the tip of his tongue, every part of him screaming to do something because he couldn't let Lucifer die. He couldn't let anyone die. He needed them. He needed his family and it didn't matter that Gadreel had betrayed them, he could mourn over that later.

But just as Castiel was about to move, about to let go of Meg and run as fast as his legs could carry him, a shot rang out in the air, stunning him. Meg froze in his grip and Castiel could feel everyone watching as Crowley crumpled to the ground, dead. His eyes flicked to Michael, whose arm was outstretched, the barrel of his pistol still smoking slightly. Abaddon was staring down at her second's body in shock, and Lucifer wasted no time in twisting out of her grip and knocking the knife to the ground. He was breathing hard as he managed to back away next to his brother.

“If I have learned anything from dealing with you people, it's to always bring a gun to a fistfight, because you will always bring a knife.” Michael's voice rang in the sudden silence.

Just like that, the fight was over. Lilith let Balthazar free and skipped away towards Abaddon, who was glaring furiously at Michael. Several others did the same but Castiel only let Meg go when she stepped back onto his toes, hard. Slowly, the rest were let up and each group gathered around their leaders, Crowley's body in the middle ground.

“This isn't over,” Abaddon cried, leaning down to swipe her knife back from the dirt. With one last look at the fallen body, she retreated, her followers returning to the shadows from whence they came.

The Wings, what was left of them, suddenly looked tired and beaten and every pair of eyes was turned to Michael for guidance. “Let's get back,” he told them all, arm finally falling to his side. Castiel couldn't bear to look at the gun in his hand and instead took Balthazar's arm to sling over his shoulder, as the older man was limping quite badly.

Silently, the group moved on, and no one looked back at the moonlight reflecting off the water in the canal like there wasn't a dead man in the dirt, that same light reflecting off the blood on his shirt.


	3. Part 3

Castiel was really starting to feel the pain in his side by the time the gang turned the corner and Afterlife came into view. Ezekiel had taken over carrying Balthazar, who they now realized had just sprained his ankle, a few blocks earlier so Castiel was free to feel the sharp stabbing of his ribs at every step he took. He wasn't the only one thinking about the fact that having a family vehicle would be a good investment either, as Balthy and Luce had both complained loudly, only to Michael's rolling of his eyes.

He was just thinking about how great it was going to be to sit down and hold a bag of ice to his side when the door to Afterlife burst open and three figures were running towards the group. Cas immediately recognized Dean, Anna and Gabriel behind him. Uriel moved forward slightly, towards the front of the group, concern hard on his features. Dean didn't slow down until he was about to bowl the group over but he slipped around them to Castiel.

Several members moved with noises of complaint but Anna's shout of, “Wait, he's a friend! It's okay!” drowned them all out, thankfully.

Still, Castiel could feel all eyes on him as Dean caught him with two warm palms on either side of his face, panic and relief conflicting on his face and in his eyes. “You're okay?” he breathed.

Slightly dazed from the fast exchange, Cas nodded and temporarily forgot about his ribs as pure relief brought a short smile to Dean's face. “Mostly,” Cas told him quietly.

The younger boy huffed a laugh that was just this side of hysterical and pulled him into a kiss that felt a bit like salvation. “I got your note and I... Fuck, Cas, don't do that to me. I had to wait with Anna and God I was so scared that you...” Dean's voice was a pained whisper as his arms slid around Cas' neck and hugged him tight. Castiel returned the gesture, clinging to him desperately despite the sharp ache in his side. He didn't know how long they stood like that, but eventually the murmurings around them brought Castiel back into reality and he broke away to look around and see the most injured continuing to the bar while the rest either talked with Gabriel and Anna or were watching Dean and Cas.

Luce stepped over to them, a smirk on his lips. “So, you weren't lying when you said there was no girl,” he said, amused.

Castiel felt his cheeks heat and looked down slightly. “This is Dean,” he said. He felt his fingers being threaded with Dean's and glanced at him with a tight smile.

“Luce. Nice to finally meet the one who's been changing our Castiel so much.” Luce didn't hold out his hand, but Dean was already occupied by holding onto Cas, seemingly reluctant to leave any space between them.

“Only for the better, I hope,” Dean said with a half smile, though his eyes were still worried and continually roving over Cas as if checking for injuries.

“Very much for the better.” Luce suddenly turned to look towards the bar where some sort of commotion was going on. Castiel followed his line of sight and twisted his body in just the wrong way, breath leaving in a hiss of pain.

Dean immediately turned to him with concern drawing his mouth into a frown. “What's wrong?”

“My ribs,” Castiel mumbled, trying to breathe through the fresh onset of pain. “I think a few are cracked.”

“My mom's a nurse,” Dean started, but he stopped when Castiel looked at Luce for guidance.

“Go with him, we've got enough here to deal with. With Gadreel gone...” Luce's voice became bitter and he watched as Anna ran down the block and into Afterlife. “You deserve a night off,” he finally continued, facing Cas once again. He reached out to touch the boy's shoulder and then started off after his brother, who was following Anna. Cas figured he'd ask her later about what was happening.

“Come on,” Dean was saying, returning Cas' attention to him. “She probably just got back from work and I know she's been wanting to meet you.”

“You told your mother?” Castiel asked, a little surprised.

The younger boy flushed. “Yeah, well, she and I are kind of close. Plus it's Sam who said something in the first place. Doesn't matter, anyway.” He supported Cas with his shoulder as they walked down the sidewalk towards the apartment building.

It was a little surreal for Castiel. He had seen the building many times over the years, but had never been inside. And he was going to meet Dean's mother. That in itself was a bit of a foreign concept. He could feel Dean glancing at him along the short walk and knew the boy was biting his tongue against all the questions he must have wanted to ask. Castiel was distantly grateful he was refraining from asking, as breathing was getting to be a little hard and all Cas really wanted was to sit down for a while.

They made it into the building and up the elevator a couple of floors in just a few minutes and soon Dean was pulling him into a little apartment that felt cozy and unlike any other place Cas had ever been. The walls were covered in paintings and family photographs, almost all of them depicting two young boys and a smiling pair of parents. There were two very old and very comfortable looking couches in the main room surrounded by dark wood side tables and as Dean led him back into the kitchen, he saw more of the same wood in a large dining table with matching chairs. It was there that Dean set him down, and Castiel immediately slumped into his given seat, glad of the respite for his feet.

“I'm gonna go grab my mom, I'll be right back,” Dean told him, scurrying off down the hall to the side of the kitchen and out of sight.

Castiel took the moment to look at the rest of the apartment, taking in the warm brown walls and carpet beneath his feet. Small knickknacks lined shelving on most of the walls and there was a grandfather clock in the corner of the room, the sound of it ticking low and comforting to Cas' ears. He could hear low voices talking from the hallway before Dean reappeared, a tall blonde woman behind him. As Cas watched her eyes move to him, concern filling her features, he could see where Dean got his looks.

“Hi, Castiel,” Dean's mother said as she moved to him, kneeling on the carpet to allow her gaze to take him in. “I'm Mary. Dean said you were in a fight earlier?”

Cas hadn't been expecting her voice to be so gentle, but then he hadn't really known what to expect, everything had been thrown onto him just a little too fast for him to catch up in the state he was in. “Yes,” he replied slowly, glancing at Dean, who stood behind Mary, biting his bottom lip.

“Where are you hurt?”

“Just my ribs. I believe they're cracked,” he told her, returning his attention just as Mary reached out towards him. Without meaning to, Castiel flinched, tilting his head away slightly. She stopped and waited until his shoulders relaxed again as he told himself she wasn't going to hurt him. Dean stepped around his mother to his side, hand resting lightly on his arm.

Mary touched his side where the cracked ribs were and Castiel drew a sharp breath, steeling himself against her prodding. “Can you take your shirt off?” she asked him softly. Cas nodded and leaned forward, ignoring the pain of his movement as he slipped his arms from his jacket and let Dean take it to drape across the table before carefully pulling his shirt over one arm then the other and off his head. His whole side was an angry red and starting to look purple in the middle, where it hurt the most.

“How's the other guy?” Dean asked, and Castiel appreciated his attempt to lighten the mood.

Mary's fingers were touching his bruising ribs and Cas looked away, towards Dean. “More humiliated than injured. Meg continually lets her ego get the better of her.”

A half smile graced the other boy's mouth and he snorted a laugh. “Everybody else doing okay?”

Cas glanced quickly at Mary as she stood quietly and stepped into the kitchen. “Mostly just bruises. Luce had a close call, and Balthazar's ankle is sprained. I have a feeling that Uriel's nose won't look any more broken than it did before.”

Dean snorted again but before he could say anymore, Mary returned, folding up an ice pack in a small towel. “Here, hold this to your side. One of your ribs is definitely cracked, but it should only take a few weeks to start feeling better. I'll grab you something for the pain.”

She did just that, bringing back two little pills and a glass of water. Dean held the ice pack while Cas downed the medicine before taking it back to hold to his side, the cold burning at first but starting to feel good. “Thank you,” he told Mary, looking up at her with what he hoped conveyed his gratitude.

Smiling warmly, Mary touched his shoulder momentarily. “You are very welcome. Now, Dean,” she continued, turning towards her son, “you better let him sleep in your bed tonight. Sam is probably asleep by now and I'm going to go do the same. I've got work in the morning so remember you have to take him to practice tomorrow.”

“Yes, mom,” Dean said with a groan.

“I can—” Cas started to protest.

Mary's look shut him up quick. “You are staying here tonight and that's final. You shouldn't go out walking this late, especially with an injury.” She smoothed over her stern tone with a smile and leaned over to kiss Dean's forehead. “Goodnight boys.” Her hand brushed Cas' shoulder before she turned away, heading around the corner to the hallway.

Castiel looked to Dean and he was sure that a million emotions were probably covering his face. Dean laughed and squeezed his arm gently. “Yeah, she has that effect. But she's pretty great,” he said, glancing to the hallway. “Come on,” he added, helping Cas to his feet. He led the way down the hall and into what was presumably his room.

Watching as he shuffled around in the dark, Cas blinked as a soft lamp came on, illuminating the space. Along the far wall was a desk and a bed housing the sleeping form of Sam, only the mop of brown hair on his head visible from under the covers. In front of Cas was Dean's bed, blankets messy though he was trying to straighten them as Castiel took in the window beside it that he knew without a doubt led to the fire escape.

“I'm gonna go grab some more blankets,” Dean said quietly, glancing at Cas before starting back towards the door.

“Wait,” Castiel whispered.

Dean stopped in his tracks and turned back. “Yeah?”

Castiel wasn't sure what it was that he wanted to say, but he couldn't deny that he disliked the idea of taking Dean's bed while he slept on the floor. But he knew that Dean would only argue if he refused the bed. So he compromised. “You don't have to... I mean, we could share.”

The younger boy raised a brow and asked, “You sure?” At Cas' nod, he added, “I don't mind the floor, really.”

“No, it's okay. I want to.” Cas bit his lip to stop himself from saying anything more. He'd made his offer, it was in Dean's hands now.

Slowly, Dean moved towards him, as if Castiel was a skittish animal, and lightly touched his hip, bare as he was still shirtless. “Okay.” He followed when Dean turned back to the bed, but bypassed it for his dresser next to the window. “Do you want something more comfortable to sleep in?” he asked, pulling out a pair of gray sweatpants.

Cas shook his head. “I'm fine.” Dean shrugged in his general direction and swiftly unbuttoned his jeans to kick them off and pull on the sweatpants himself. Castiel felt his cheeks heat but he didn't look away until after his eyes had roved over the naked expanse of the other boy's legs and his dark boxers. Leaning one hand on the wall, Cas toed his shoes off as he watched Dean pull down the covers on the small bed and slide in, leaving ample room for Cas to join him.

“Come on,” Dean urged, patting the mattress and laying his head upon the pillow. Castiel spared a glance to the other side of the room where Sam was still sleeping soundly. In the time it took him to look back to Dean, he had reached over and turned the lamp off, plunging the room into darkness. Moonlight filtered slightly through the window, though the blinds were closed, and Castiel could only just make out the dark shape of Dean laying back and waiting for him.

With measured steps, Cas sat on the edge of the bed first, testing his ribs. Favoring his injured side, he managed to lie down rather painlessly on his back, his breath leaving him in relief as he began to relax. He still had the ice pack and he rested it against his side, trying to get comfortable. He felt Dean warm to his unbruised side and the boy tugged the blankets higher over them both. His arm came to rest across Cas' chest, hand low on his hip and away from his ribs. Trapped between warm and cold, feeling slightly overwhelmed all of a sudden, he turned his head to see the glint of Dean's eyes looking back at him in the dim light of the room.

“Is this okay?” Dean asked him in a soft whisper, breath touching his ear.

“Yes,” Cas breathed. A million things were racing through his mind at that moment and he wasn't entirely sure what he was saying yes to or if he should have even been saying it. But it fell from his lips with a familiarity that he could only associate with _Dean_. The events of the night were still raw but first and foremost in his thoughts was the boy beside him, fingers gently tapping rhythmlessly against his hip. Words passed his lips unbidden and he found himself with the echoes of “I'm sorry,” rattling his eardrums.

Dean didn't answer for a long time, his eyes closed, and Cas feared he had made a mistake. But eventually the boy shifted slightly and pressed himself closer. “I was scared.” Cas could hear him take an unsteady breath. “Scared you wouldn't come back. Or that you would but... I suppose I should be grateful that it's just your ribs that got messed up and nothing worse.” He ended his words with a short, bitter chuckle that made the muscles in Castiel's chest clench painfully as he tried to touch Dean.

“I've dealt with worse,” Cas muttered through clenched teeth, trying hard to ignore the pain and relax his tensed shoulders.

“You shouldn't have to.”

“It's who I am.”

Dean sighed and leaned his face against Cas' shoulder. “I know. I understand, Cas, I do. But that doesn't mean I have to like it.”

Castiel didn't know what to say so he let their old friend silence say his part instead. He listened as the minutes ticked by and Dean's breathing slowly evened out into deep puffs of air that brushed his skin, warm and strangely comforting. Watching the ceiling, Cas let time pass him by as his mind tried to work through everything and shut down so that he could finally asleep. But it just wasn't happening. He wanted to move but refrained because of his ribs and instead brooded quietly, taking solace in the body curled beside him.

He was sure Dean was asleep after so long, but the boy's whisper was loud in the night as he asked, “What happened out there?”

Castiel didn't even have to think that long before words slipped off his tongue. “Michael killed one of them.” He paused. “It was that or watch as we all fell, Luce first. And I wouldn't have been able to save him.”

“Cas...”

“I watched him die, but I don't regret his death. He bought out Gadreel.”

“Gadreel betrayed you?” Dean's fingers twitched against Cas' skin. “Shit, I'm sorry, Cas.”

Castiel was quiet for a few moments. “Looking back, I should have seen it.”

“No, you couldn't have. You had no idea, it's not your fault,” Dean insisted, lifting his head enough to loom above Cas, eyes somehow bright.

“Even now, I can't hate him, though. He treated me well when no one else did.”

“He meant something to you, even more reason you can't blame yourself. You never would have guessed, I know that much.” Dean's voice of rationality was against Castiel's ear and he let out a shaky breath, nodding.

“Okay...”

Dean lay back down, settling into his side. “Listen, Cas, you should get some sleep. You're here now and everything is going to be fine. Everything else you can think about in the morning, okay?”

Cas breathed his reply in a sigh and tried to relax. Dean was right. He was alive, he was safe in a warm bed and cocooned with comforting arms, and he could deal with the rest in the morning. Flashes came and went behind his eyelids as he tried to sleep. But the last words that filtered through his mind before he fell into slumber were in Dean's voice. _“I was scared... Scared you wouldn't come back.”_

__  


The sky was like a massive jade crystal when Castiel's eyes rose to watch the clouds pass by. Green was too dull a word for him to describe what he was seeing. He wasn't even sure what he could say that would accurately capture the moment, there was nothing in his vocabulary that he knew. Filled with a mix of emotions, from awe and adoration to fear, it took him a long time to finally look down and realize that his feet were moving. He was running, body carrying him through dark streets that clashed with the brightness of the sky overhead.

He couldn't be sure what he was running to, or away from. The buildings that he passed all looked exactly the same and it was the instant that he turned his head around for the first time that he realized he was dreaming. The horizon was distant before him and when Castiel tried to stop, he blinked, and suddenly the green sky was gone, replaced by a white ceiling, sunlight dappling around him.

With a quiet groan, Castiel blinked a few more times and let his hand drag across the empty bed space beside him. He suddenly sat up, his back bowing as pain hit him like a freight train from his ribs in protest of the sudden movement. When he could breathe again, Cas wrapped a hand around his bruised side and looked around the room, remembering that he went to bed with Dean, Sam asleep across the room. But no one was there as his eyes adjusted to the sunlight.

On the floor beside the bed was a folded sheet of paper. Slowly, Cas moved his legs over the side of the mattress, his feet flat on the floor, and he leaned down to pick up the paper. His name was across the front in messy handwriting and he opened it to see a note from Dean.

“ _I had to take Sam to soccer practice, but I'll be back in a few hours. I thought about waking you but figured you'd need the rest. My dad is probably home, but he should be sleeping and you can help yourself to anything in the kitchen if you want to eat. I'll be back soon. Dean.”_

The letter fell to the mattress as Cas stood painfully, grabbing the ice pack he'd fallen asleep with before wandering over towards the door to the room. His shoes were at the foot of the bed and he quickly shoved those on, continuing out towards the kitchen. He felt odd, being alone in someone else's house. On the kitchen table lay Cas' shirt and jacket that had been discarded the night before but he let them be for a moment in favor of unwrapping the ice pack to put in the freezer and folding the towel carefully, placing it on the counter.

Finally, Castiel went to his clothes and gritted his teeth as he pulled his shirt over his head and slipped the jacket around his shoulders. With one short glance around, he made his way back to the hallway and to Dean's room. There he opened the window and silently slipped out onto the fire escape, sliding the glass closed behind him. Cool wind greeted him outside along with bright sunshine. Without looking back, Castiel climbed down the fire escape and into the alley, pulling open the door to Afterlife.

Balthazar was sitting on the counter his injured foot propped up on one of the stools. Sitting to his left was Luce, one leg folded underneath him and a beer in his hand. There was a small white bandage taped to the side of his neck. Next to him was Michael, the leader holding several papers and biting the end of a pen in a very uncharacteristic fashion. On the pool table was Gabriel, his legs criss-cross and his back hunched. The room was silent.

“Castiel,” Luce said, breaking the gloomy atmosphere with a faint smile. “How are you?”

Cas drew closer and ducked his head slightly as everyone else noticed him. “Fine. Considering.”

“I'm glad. I wasn't expecting you so soon, though. Everything alright with Dean?” Luce turned himself so that he was facing Cas in full, beer set down beside him for the moment.

“Yes,” Castiel told him slowly, biting the inside of his cheek. “He had to go out for a while and I... left.”

Luce tilted his head. Balthazar next to him was watching from the corner of his eye. Castiel spared a glance at Gabriel, who was still sitting still, just as Luce asked, “Why?”

Cas turned his eyes past Michael and towards the door, through which he could see just a glimpse of the outside world, the sun bright and cars passing by on the black asphalt. “I had a strange dream.” Everything was quiet for a moment, like they were waiting for Cas to finish, but he didn't know what else to tell them. He wasn't even quite sure himself. He'd need to think it over a bit.

Suddenly, Balthazar burst out laughing. “That's it? A dream?”

With a blank face, Cas looked to him. “I suppose.” He let his gaze wander again but was quickly drawn in by Luce's inquiring expression. The older man's eyes were calculating though soft and Cas knew some sort of gears were turning in his head.

“Let him be,” Michael's voice came out of nowhere and Castiel looked to him quickly. “He had a rough night. We all did.”

Balthazar looked down, suitably chastised, his lips pursed. “Yeah,” he muttered.

Cas took it as his cue to leave the conversation and moved quietly to Gabriel, who had yet to move during the exchange, his eyes locked on his hands which were pressed together on his lap. Castiel hoisted himself up onto the table to sit beside Gabe, folding his legs in the same fashion and leaning his cheek on one palm, elbow on his knee. The position wasn't that comfortable on his ribs, but Castiel didn't want to lay down, which was the best way to relieve the pain. So he suffered through, much like he always did.

“What are you thinking about?” Cas asked softly, not looking over at Gabe but feeling the other boy jump slightly at his words.

“Nothing. Well. A lot I guess. I just kind of can't believe it all, you know?” Gabriel's words were a little shaky and Cas chanced a look over at him, disconcerted by the hallowed look of his face, dark circles below his eyes.

“Gadreel was... important.” Cas thought of Dean's words and he slowly reached out a hand to rest on Gabe's knee.

“Yeah. Sorry, it just hit me again a little while ago and I'm not...”

“It's okay.” Castiel let his hand stay a moment longer before taking it back and shifting slightly to lessen the pressure on his ribs, grimacing.

“Your ribs still hurting?” Gabriel asked after a moment, taking a breath and sitting up ever so slightly straighter.

Castiel nodded. “I've had worse.”

Gabe grinned at him suddenly. “Yeah, like the time you tripped on your own feet and smacked right into the bar.”

A blush crept onto Cas' cheeks, but he smiled nonetheless. “That was almost a year ago.”

“And I'm still laughing!” Gabe punctuated the statement with a breathy giggle and Castiel could feel himself lighten just a little bit. Castiel may have gotten annoyed by him at times, but everything always felt a little better when Gabe was smiling and happy.

“Hey, Gabey, come do me a favor!” Balthazar called out, making the boy jump down from his perch and skip over. Castiel watched as he followed whatever directions the older man must have given him, but his mind was suddenly far away, thinking back to the odd dream he'd had that morning.

He still didn't understand what he'd been running from, but it must have been important. Or maybe he was running to something? There was nothing to tell him which way around it was. The green of the sky, though, had been just the same shade as Dean's eyes, and the buildings he was surrounded by felt awfully familiar. And why had he just left the apartment without a word, not even thinking of waiting until Dean returned to say goodbye?

Their conversation from the night before sprang to mind and Castiel thought about the way Dean must have felt, not knowing what was happening and worrying for Cas' life. He didn't like feeling that way, and he didn't want Dean to feel that way. He thought that maybe, if he just left, if he removed himself from Dean's life than the boy would never have to feel that. It would hurt, he knew. He'd already realized how attached he was becoming, but at the same time his life and Dean's could never—should never—get mixed up. Dean didn't deserve that. He deserved someone who would be steady and strong and would come home every night and not make him worry.

Castiel couldn't give him that. His life was built on surprises, never knowing what might happen and whether he'd get to go home when the day was over. Each day counted as a victory and while for a short time he'd had some form of constancy, it didn't last. And it never would last. He couldn't do that to Dean. He just didn't know how in the world he would be able to face Dean again and tell him that.

As if on cue, the back door swung open, making Cas turn his head and watch as Dean entered the building. “Dean?” he called out, brows drawing together.

“Cas!” The look on his face was frantic as he approached and reached out to touch Cas' face and his forearm. “Are you okay? I got back and you were gone and I panicked and—”

“I'm fine,” Castiel cut him off gently.

With a breath of relief, Dean suddenly narrowed his eyes. “Didn't I tell you not to do that to me again? Jesus, man,” he said, voice hard and then quiet, hands wrapping around one of Cas'.

“Sorry,” Cas breathed, leaning close to lay a kiss on his temple and resting their foreheads together for a moment. He knew it was now or never. “Dean, I need to speak with you.”

Dean's eyes crinkled as he frowned. “Yeah, okay. What's up?”

There were a thousand words at that moment that he was sure would spill out if he opened his mouth, so Castiel waited as he tried to find the right ones to say. His tongue felt heavy with unspoken syllables and he was sure he even knew what was going to be right, so he figured he needed to at least say something. “I'm not good for you,” he started, seeing Dean's face instantly fall in confusion. “You deserve someone better than a broken gang member who doesn't know if he'll come back every night. I can't be there for you like I should be, and I can never make you promises because I don't know if I can keep them.”

The look on Dean's face was tearing Castiel's heart into a million tiny pieces, and he knew he couldn't make it better. But it was Dean's quiet voice and how he said, “Cas?” in such a lost tone that really did Cas in. He laid his hand atop Dean's, which still held his other one, and looked at him with profound sadness in his chest.

“I'm sorry, Dean.”

Castiel returned home for a much needed shower and change of clothes, though the destroyed look on Dean's face as he left him haunted him beneath his eyelids every time he blinked. He had made the excuse of needing to get back and guided a shell-shocked Dean outside before slipping away, regret making it's cold, heavy marks on his already torn up heart. Knowing now what he'd done, all he wanted was to kiss Dean once more, to hold him and feel him and smell him just one more time.

But he couldn't.

He avoided Afterlife for three days, preferring to spend his time walking the streets aimlessly before finally collapsing back into bed, only to sleep just an hour or two at a time before venturing back into the sun or the night. His father was away on a business trip, or so the note he'd left had said. Cas felt like a zombie. His ribs started to heal, the pain subsiding unless he made a particularly taxing movement, which he took care not to do. His legs ached like his heart and he felt it a fitting punishment for his actions. Still, he dreaded when he would have to return to the Wings, knowing that he had to. It was his duty, his life, and his family. And that was important, he told himself.

And so, it was five days since the fight, and Castiel found himself on the streets, feet heading down the familiar path towards the bar, eyes resolutely stuck on the ground. He didn't want to see the apartment building, afraid of the consequences on his poor tattered chest. So he made his way inside as fast and quietly as he could, surprised to see Luce and Balthazar at the counter with Anna and Raphael. Anna smiled at him tightly and the others spared just a glance, but continued their conversation.

“I'm not sure,” Raphael was saying. “It seems like she's trying to gather more people, but no one wants to join, they know that it's only suicide.”

“It's true,” Luce mused, tapping his chin with one finger. “Anything on when?”

Raphael shook his head. “No, nothing. It could be tomorrow, it could be weeks.”

Luce nodded as if he had been expecting that answer. He stood from his seat and patted Raphael on the shoulder. “Thanks. I'll call if anything comes up, but for now, keep your ears open.”

“Will do,” the other man replied, standing as well before passing Cas on his way out, giving him a sidelong glance that the boy could not decipher.

“Castiel, I'm glad you're here,” Luce said, turning to him and leaning back on the counter, arms crossed.

“What's going on?” Cas asked, moving closer to Anna, who was biting her lip and looking anywhere but at him.

“Oh, nothing to worry about. We've been trying to see what Abaddon is planning for her revenge. But that doesn't matter right now, I wanted to talk to you about something else.” He paused and then reached into his back pocket to pull out a piece of paper. “Actually, I think you should read this first, and then we'll talk.

Castiel took the paper, frowning at it. He looked to Anna, who was pretending like she wasn't interested even though both her and Balthazar were obviously watching from the sidelines. Opening the note, Cas immediately recognized Dean's handwriting. The note wasn't very long, but Castiel read it quickly and then looked up at Luce again. He was watching with a blank face and Cas lowered his eyes to read it again, just to be sure of what it said.

“ _Cas. You kind of really suck at breakups. But if I've learned anything about you, it's that you're good at running away when it's the last thing you want to do. See, I'm really good at reading people, and I know that you're not a bad person, you just made some bad choices though you always had good intentions. And whatever it is you think you're saving me from by pushing me away... well it's nice to know you care, but man are you clueless. I don't want to be saved. I want to be a part of your life, and I want you to be a part of mine, gang and all if that's how it has to be. I hope it doesn't take you long to realize this, but when you do, I'll be here. Dean.”_

Once he'd finished reading it, he let his hands fall as he locked gazes with Luce. “Did he...?”

“He came by yesterday. I told him we hadn't seen you and he left. Came back half an hour later with this note and said to give it to you when you got back.” Luce smiled. “I've done my part of the job.”

“But I—”

“Castiel, would you sit with me?” Luce asked, not waiting for an answer and taking his own seat, eyes expectant. Slowly, Cas complied, letting the note rest on the counter before him. “Michael and I have come to a decision. Well, I should say we decided it the day after the fight, but before we could tell you, you were gone. Which is alright, don't get me wrong.”

“What decision?” Castiel asked quietly, confusion lacing his voice.

Luce took a moment to reply. “To put it bluntly, we're kicking you out.” He waited a moment for Cas to take that in, but when he opened his mouth to protest, Luce continued. “You are still family to us, and you're welcome to come around whenever you like. I enjoy your company and your quick—albeit infrequent—comments, and we will always consider you one of us.”

“But?” Cas was dumbfounded, his lips parted and his eyes wide.

“But, you no longer have any obligation to the Wings. You're a free man, so to speak.” Luce sat back and watched as Castiel tried to understand.

He was no longer... obligated? “What about Abaddon?” he asked suddenly.

Luce shrugged. “I'm sure we'll be able to handle her. We've got a few tricks up our sleeve. But there's no need for you to put your life on the line.”

Castiel felt like his feet had been pulled from underneath him and he was glad that he was seated firmly, though his fingers were digging into his thighs with a grip that he had to force himself to relax, lest he bruise himself more. “I don't understand... why?” he asked, eyes flicking between Luce, Balthazar, and Anna, who was finally looking back at him, her eyes pitying but happy at the same time.

She moved to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Cas, you're not leaving us, you know?”

“You have something most of us only dream of with that boy and, well, don't give it up,” Luce told him softly.

“This is because of Dean?” Cas was incredulous. He didn't understand. He'd been a part of the Wings for two years, how could they just let him go? And how could they just expect him to walk away, to stop protecting them all?

Balthazar was leaning on the counter behind Luce and he quirked his lips as he said, “We're not really kicking you out, we're giving you a chance to be what you want to be for him and not worry about us. This is about you and your happiness, Castiel.”

“Don't I have a choice?” Castiel asked sharply, meeting Luce's gaze.

He pursed his lips and looked at Cas with crinkled eyes. “What choice is there? This is a chance to get what you want. A life with Dean, a life without fearing for your life daily but still with us.”

“What if,” Castiel stood as he talked, “I already chose? I already made my mistakes.”

“Don't you get it?” Anna asked him, her hand tight on his arm. “That note says it all and we know it. You love him, and he knows it, too. So what's holding you back?”

Cas opened his mouth to reply, but he didn't know what he could say as an answer that wasn't a lie. So, he glared at her and twisted from her grip, heading away and out the door. He didn't know where his feet were taking him, but he let them go where they wanted, the note clutched in one hand and his other a fist that slowly unwound as he took step after step.

Left, right, left, right. It became a mantra in Cas' head as he went, trying to block out the echo of Anna's question that kept replaying. _“So what's holding you back?”_ The words were a taunt in Castiel's mind, toying with him and begging him to find an answer. But he didn't have one. Not one that made any logical sense.

The only thing really holding him back was his loyalty to his gang. But they had told him he was still a part of the family. Luce said he didn't have any obligation, but that didn't mean Cas couldn't still protect them, maybe in ways that didn't involve laying his life out for the taking. They really had offered him everything, and Cas had walked out. All he wanted was to go home and think about it all for a while. So he kept walking, and thinking still.

Dean meant so much. It was Dean who came into Cas' life like a small seed that suddenly sprouts one day and then simply keeps growing bigger and bigger. He wasn't sure what could have planted that seed, maybe fate, maybe God. Whatever did it, it was impossible to deny how deeply Dean had crawled under his skin and filled a substantially large space within Cas that he hadn't even noticed was missing until suddenly Dean was gone and he was empty again. A human shaped cutout of his heart was lost long ago and he'd selfishly accepted Dean as a replacement before fully realizing what kind of impact that would have on him.

He supposed that was the thing with love. You never know how it feels until it's gone. The note in his hand felt heavier and Castiel found himself in the kitchen of his father's house before he realized it. It came to him like a revelation, hitting him hard and sending him into a struggle for air as he tried to catch his breath.

There was nothing holding him back but himself.

So he ran.

Dean's window was closed and the night was well on it's way when he arrived on the fire escape. He rapped his knuckles on the glass, sitting back on his heels to wait. He had folded the note from Dean and it crinkled in his back pocket. It didn't take long before the blinds were being pulled to the side and the window was opening, moonlight revealing Dean's face, haggard and in half-shadow.

“Cas?” he asked in a whisper, eyes wide.

“Come with me?” Castiel posed it as a question, the fear of Dean's rejection a cold stone in his belly.

But Dean just said, “Hang on,” and disappeared inside, the blinds rattling closed behind him. Cas waited for a couple of minutes before he came back, climbing out with a coat around his shoulders and shoes on his feet.

They stood and looked at each other for a long moment, Cas trying to hold himself back and instead turning his head in the direction he was planning on going. “I'd like to show you something,” he told Dean quietly. The boy nodded and Cas led the way down the fire escape and into the alley. He continually glanced to his side, just to make sure Dean was still there as they walked through the darkened streets.

It felt familiar, as they had walked in the night many times before. The yellow of the streetlights was a pathway across sidewalks and asphalt and led them down the long road to Castiel's house. He wasn't sure he could call it a home, but it was the place he'd lived all his life, and that meant at least something to him. There were still remnants of his mother in the corners of the kitchen and picture frames on the walls. It was there that Cas took Dean, slipping through the door and into the quiet darkness, comfortable in knowing that his father was far away.

“This is your house?” Dean asked softly, following Cas across the carpet.

Cas nodded and found himself standing in the hallway before his favorite photograph. The color had faded over the years, but the image was the same. His mother sat in a rocking chair, a small baby with short dark curls on her lap, blue eyes bright like the smile he wore. The woman in the picture had a warm face and if Castiel had to describe her in one word, it would be “happy”. He turned to Dean and smiled a bittersweet smile. “This is my mother.”

“She looks just like you,” Dean mumbled, almost in awe, his gaze trapped by the picture. Finally, he turned to Cas. “Why are you showing me this?”

The older boy glanced at his mother again before locking eyes with Dean. “I never was able to get to know her, but if she had lived I know she would have told me every day that she loved me. My father has always blamed me for her death and it took me years to realize I couldn't have done anything, I couldn't have helped her. Since then, I've always wanted to protect those that I care about...” He trailed off, pausing as he took in the sad expression Dean's face was carrying like an open book.

Still, Cas continued on, figuring out what he wanted to say as he spoke. “Luce gave me your note today. They kicked me out, more or less.” Dean looked like he wanted to say something, but Castiel needed to say his piece before his tongue gave out on him, so he pushed forward. “I'm still a part of the family, but they don't want me risking my life if it means I can't be there for you.”

“For me?”

Castiel nodded. His lips curled in a small smile as he remembered Luce's words. At that moment, he had made peace with what he'd been offered, and he accepted it. “They've given me everything I wanted, so if you still want me...” he let the words roll from his mouth, and somehow it felt good.

Dean reached out one hand and rested it on Cas' cheek. The look of relief on his face tugged at the strings in Cas' body until he moved forward, pressing himself closer so that they were connected by hands and the brushing of chests. Cas kissed like he was starved for it. He wanted to curl himself around Dean and tell him everything he meant to Cas. He felt Dean's hands on his arms and broke away to nuzzle his nose along the underside of the boy's jaw.

“Cas?” Dean asked in a breathless whisper. The tone of his voice had Cas pulling away in seconds.

“What's wrong?” he asked, suddenly worried he'd gone too far.

“This... this isn't just for once right? This isn't just for tonight?” Dean's eyes were looking anywhere but him and Cas touched his face with one thumb, tracing his cheekbone and shaking his head.

“This is just the first. I promise.” Cas felt something deep in his chest that he could actually make such a promise and he knew he could keep it. He wasn't worried about dying the next day or returning to Dean with broken bones and bloodied hands. He had Dean and he had his whole life and this was just the start. “Come on,” he whispered, tugging Dean down the hallway, brushing gentle kisses to his forehead and his temple. They reached Castiel's bedroom as he pressed their mouths together again, Dean finally tangling his hands in Cas' hair.

Cas' hands were planted firmly on Dean's hips as he guided him towards his bed. He followed Dean with lingering kisses to his lips, laying him gently down. With careful fingers, he helped Dean pull his shirt off, tossing it aside in favor of getting his palms on the other boy's chest, touching his skin with reverence and caressing the warm planes of his body. His fingertips traced invisible patterns on tanned flesh and he raked his gaze from Dean's bellybutton to his eyes, leaning up to kiss him again.

“Dean,” Castiel breathed, the air from his lungs condensed into one singular word that held everything he wanted to say, but didn't know how. Because it was Dean that showed him not everything is bad; that a mother dying does not mean a mother lost. He showed Cas that not every touch had to be slap or a punch, but could be tender and loving and make him ache in way that bruises never could. Because Dean made a boy who had never really known love fall hard and fast into it, terrified and exhilarated equally.

Yet he could not put any of that into words. He was too busy letting his lips brush against Dean's jaw, his neck, his shoulder, and his collarbone. He was too busy trying to touch and feel every part of Dean, trying to get as close as humanly possible, and they were wearing way too much fabric for that. So he reluctantly gave up his grasp on Dean's skin to move down and unbutton his jeans, glancing up quickly at his face.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly, because as much as he felt in that moment, if Dean didn't feel the same, he could wait. But he still prayed for it.

“Yeah, yes, it's good.” Dean's voice was breathless as he replied, hands running through Cas' hair before moving to his shoulders in an attempt to keep contact with him.

Cas kept going, tugging Dean's jeans off when he lifted his hips. He ended up standing, tossing away the pants with Dean's shirt before slowly removing his own clothes, returning to Dean's awaiting skin with just boxers. He let the palms of his hands travel up the smooth skin of Dean's thighs and past his hips to play with the bumps and ridges of the other boy's ribs beneath the skin on his sides. He rested his body alongside Dean's urging him with a tug on his waist to turn on his side and face Castiel, who stole his mouth in another kiss.

“Cas, are you okay?” Dean suddenly asked, pulling back enough to look him in the eye, though his hand mirrored Cas' in slowly running over the bare skin of his back, forearm resting along his waist.

Cas shifted so that their bodies were lined up, legs intertwined and lips only a hair's breadth apart. “More than,” he replied simply.

Dean let their mouths graze lightly. “You're really touchy and stuff.”

“I like touching you,” Castiel mumbled to him, trying to pull his bottom lip between his teeth. “It makes me feel...”

“Feel what?”

“Complete.” The word was barely a whisper. “You make me feel good and I—I don't want to let go of that. Of you.”

Dean tightened his hold on Cas, tugging him impossibly closer. “Then don't.”

Castiel didn't have words to reply with, so he gave his response in a kiss that he hoped said more than his voice ever could. He was touching Dean at every available place, bare skin warm and beautiful. When Dean rocked his hips forward into Cas', the older boy gasped in a breath of the air Dean was huffing out and returned the motion. The friction was so sweet on his clothed dick and it made him want to get inside of Dean's very skin, hold him as tightly as possible, and never—ever—let him go.

“Cas, fuck, I—” Dean breathed. “I want you so bad.”

Smashing their lips together in another kiss, just this side of too hard, Castiel gave his answer in another push of his hips and a whispered, “Dean.”

The younger boy made a noise in the back of his throat and gripped a handful of Cas' hair before sliding his hand down the back of his neck. “Lube. Do you have lube?”

Cas pulled back enough to search his face, a warm shiver flowing through his body at seeing just how dark Dean's eyes had gotten and his slick parted lips that Castiel wanted to spend forever kissing. “Yeah,” he finally answered. “I'll get it.” He reluctantly untangled himself from Dean, touching him until the last moment and then turning back in the doorway. “I'll be right back,” he said reassuringly, eyes taking in the view of Dean, boxers low on his hips as he lay splayed out on Cas' bed.

He turned, quickly retrieving the bottle of lube he kept hidden in his bathroom just down the hall, returning quickly back to Dean. The other boy met him halfway as Cas crawled back onto the bed above him, slowly lowering him back down with slow and deep kisses that had Castiel aching for more. The small bottle was still in his hand and Dean took it without saying a word, pulling at him with his free hand to keep the slide of lips constant.

“You've never...” Dean started as he panted for breath.

“No.”

“It's okay.” Castiel was pushed away far enough for Dean to slide his boxers partway down his thighs, Cas taking over the rest of the way for him.

The sight of the boy's hard cock made him still between Dean's legs and his eyes flicked up to see him watching Castiel's reaction with rapt attention. With slow movements, Cas traced his hands over the now fully bared flesh of Dean's hips and the dips that led to his straining erection. He tentatively brushed his fingers along Dean's shaft, looking up to see Dean's eyelids flutter closed. It was exhilarating to have this beautiful naked body underneath him and Cas didn't want to wait any longer to feel all of it.

He wasn't stupid, he knew how this would work, and he knew what to do. So he gathered the lube from Dean and opened it to let some drip down his fingers, spreading it across his skin and using his other hand to coax one of Dean's legs further up, allowing him space to reach lower and slick the skin just around Dean's hole before pressing a finger in. Dean's lips fell open and he grappled for purchase on Cas' shoulders as Castiel started a slow rhythm, feeling around the tight warmth of Dean's ass.

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean gasped, starting to rock his hips and moaning when Cas added a second finger slowly.

“Good?” Castiel asked, a little hesitant. His free hand was on Dean's hip, massaging lightly as he watched Dean's face change.

“Fucking great,” the younger boy swore, arching his back suddenly when Cas pushed a little deeper and dragged the tips of his fingers along Dean's walls, trying to find the right spot. “More,” he requested breathlessly.

Castiel could not deny him and added a third finger, repeating the motion he had before. He felt a smile on his face when he got the same reaction and let his other hand roam up Dean's chest and cup his jaw, leaning down to kiss him. “Ready?” he asked against the boy's lips.

“Yeah, just. Let me,” Dean told him, hands tangling in Cas' hair for a moment before searching the bed for the bottle of lube that Cas had dropped somewhere. Continuing to finger him, making sure he was good and open, Castiel waited for Dean to coat his own fingers in lube and then look at him with a raised brow. “Take those off,” he said.

Cas made sure to push against his prostate once more before taking his fingers back and shifting around to get out of the boxers he was still wearing for some reason. Once freed, Dean reached out and wrapped his lube-covered fingers around Castiel's dick, making Cas tip his head back. Lips and teeth found his bared neck and bit onto the soft flesh of Cas' throat and the older boy felt a groan leave his open mouth. Dean stroked him several times, covering him in lube, before falling back to the bed.

Carefully, Cas lined himself up and pushed into Dean, pausing when he was as deep as he could go and holding himself up on his hands. He watched Dean's face, watched as those incredibly bright eyes, darker than he'd ever seen, closed tight, his lips parted. “Dean,” he breathed, not sure what he was asking but knowing he was asking something.

Dean opened his eyes back up and all Cas wanted was to live inside them forever, reflecting back his face and he could spend years wrapped up just looking at them. “I'm good, you can... you can move,” Dean huffed, his breath short while his hands traveled along Cas' chest. He pushed accidentally against Cas' bruised ribs and made the older boy wince slightly. “Shit, sorry, you okay?”

“Yeah,” Cas told him, giving himself a moment to recompose before experimentally rocking his hips. The wetness of lube made the movement easy and he slid out and back in, feeling Dean clench around him.

“Maybe we shouldn't, your ribs—” Dean started saying, though he cut himself off with a moan when Cas pulled back to thrust hard into him. He continued the motion again and again even as Dean hooked one of his legs around Castiel and his back arched beautifully below him.

The look on his face was the image of ecstasy and Cas couldn't help but suck on Dean's bottom lip before capturing him in a kiss that was sloppy and wet and perfect. The younger boy started lifting his hips just enough to get Cas deeper every time he pushed forward, making the meeting of their bodies sweeter and filthier and absolutely incredible. Castiel could feel his lungs struggling and broke away to gasp for air, his mind and body assaulted by a hundred feelings at once and not a single one that he could point out accurately.

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean panted, his hands finding a grip in Cas' hair and pulling on it, not hard enough that it hurt, but hard enough that it pushed Castiel into snapping his hips a little faster.

“Dean, I—” He didn't know what he was trying to say, but Dean's moan broke his train of thought and made him lower his head, his eyes shut as his ears listened to the sound of their love-making and the little noises leaving Dean's throat. He could feel Dean tightening around him and he managed to catch the boy's gaze, a shiver running through his body at the heat gathered in those eyes. “Touch yourself,” Cas said quietly.

Dean's eyes almost rolled back as his lids closed halfway. He left one hand in Cas' hair and the other slid down Castiel's arm and back to his own body. If Cas tilted his head in just the right way, he could see where the boy's hand was wrapped around his hard dick, sliding along it fast and dirty and without finesse, but Cas knew he was close. He raised his head just enough to watch Dean's face as it became too much for him. His eyes scrunched shut and his mouth opened from where he'd been biting his lip. A low sound left his chest as he shuddered and the muscles in his ass clenched tight around Cas' cock.

Watching as orgasm hit him sent a thrill though Cas and he tilted his head back as he thrust just twice more before coming. His back was arched, his ribs were going to kill him when it was over, but pleasure was filling his veins and spilling into Dean's ass and he couldn't ask for a better moment just then. After rocking his hips through it, Cas eventually felt Dean twitch underneath him and carefully extricated himself, laying on his good side beside Dean, both of them panting for breath.

After a long few minutes of basking in the afterglow, Dean turned his head to look at Cas, reaching out a hand to touch his waist. “How're your ribs?” he asked softly.

Cas slowly opened his eyes and blinked a few times. “I've had worse.”

Dean suddenly laughed, loud and carefree and he turned to his side, facing Cas as the laughter subsided into just a bright smile that Cas knew was reflected on his own face. They kissed with languid lips and warm hands tracing each other's bare skin. “We should clean up,” Dean eventually whispered.

“That requires moving,” Cas mumbled to him, stealing another kiss. “I'm quite content here.”

Another low chuckle left Dean's throat and he squeezed Cas' hip. “Come on, I promise it'll be worth your while.” He winked when Cas looked at him. Dean got up slowly, letting his hands trail down Castiel's body as he backed off the bed, eyes hooded and dark. Finally, he turned away at the doorway and leaned along the frame, looking over his shoulder.

Cas' eyes traveled along his body, all tanned skin and inviting flesh, a little bit of come dripping from between his ass cheeks and down one thigh. He managed to hoist himself up at the sight of that, ribs protesting but cock stirring back to life. Dean escaped his gaze with a laugh and disappeared down the hall, making Cas stand unsteadily in order to follow him, a smile on his lips. He heard the sound of the shower starting and all he could about was kissing Dean again.

He realized a second later that he never got to say what he really wanted to say. But he didn't need words, and instead spoke his piece through lips and tongue when he met Dean underneath the spray of water. What they had was more than words, and if the way Dean wrapped himself around Cas said anything, it was that he understood as well.

Their confessions were in breathy moans and wandering hands. Their love was in the way Dean kissed his cheek on a bridge in the middle of the night, and how Cas held Dean like a lifeline when he got back from the fight. It was laughing while kissing and sharing secret smiles that no one else would understand. It was in Dean's eyes when he looked at Cas like he was the only thing that mattered. But most of all, it was in the way Cas took Dean's hands and pressed them to his face, and Dean just held him like there was nothing he'd rather do.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it. It turned out a little differently that I had expected, but this way works much better than my original plan. I'm so happy I finally got this finished. I mean it took me writing for about six hours solid for the end like 7k, but I did it. I'm really proud of this one and I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it!


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